Once Upon a Life
by becca85
Summary: In this series of one-shots, I focus on the lives of the official "suspects" prior to the wedding week on Harper's Island, back when their lives were relatively normal. Many of them will make some mention of the Dunn/Wellington wedding.
1. Thomas Wellington

**A/N: I don't know what inspired these short one-shots, but I felt compelled to write them down. It's going to end up being 25 little stories with an additional two optional. Basically, I am taking all 25 suspects from the official list and writing little pre-island "blips" about thoughts, events, memories, etc. for each character prior to the fatal week on Harper's Island. The two optional stories will be Wakefield and Harkin, should I choose to write them. A few notes regarding these "blips:" I wanted to focus solely on each character individually, so I tried to steer clear of dialog, though there may be a couple of exceptions. / These stories range in relation to when they occur prior to the wedding week; meaning, one story may be the day before the start of the wedding week and another story may be a couple of months before the start. I will tell you that each story will clearly tell you when it occurs in relation to the wedding day or wedding week. / These stories will be short (less then a page on MSWord). / I will try and post one per week; as it stands, I have six written out right now, so it'll buy me some time should I run into problems down the road. / They are not posted in any particular order, so it'll jump around character-wise and time-wise, but each chapter is independent of all the rest.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or ideas created by Ari Schlossberg. I only borrowed them for the entertainment and amusement of my audience.**

**SUMMARY: 25 (or 27) short story "blips" that focus on each of the 25 official suspects. Each chapter is a stand-alone segment.**

**GENRE: Drama**

**RATING: PG-13**

**DATE: February 10, 2011**

**::~*~::**

Thomas leaned back in his lawn chair as he carefully lit his cigar. Cuban cigars. There was nothing better, but he thought that part of its appeal was its illegality. It was the same when he was a schoolboy, too. He had never really liked chewing gum, but the strict "no gum chewing" policy his private school had adhered to, made it all the more tempting and all the more suave to be covert enough to chew without getting caught. It was a game he had played with his friends, and he had been well known at being the sliest.

His eyes got a faraway look to them as he thought back on his school days, oh so many years ago. Could he really be so old now? He turned his face to the glass window that separated the deck from his study. He gazed impassively at his salt-n-pepper hair with his gradually receding hairline, the faint wrinkles that emphasized his eyes and mouth, probably from years of keeping up a stoic demeanor in the face of society. He sighed as he turned away from the reflection. The years had been kinder to him then they had been to many of his colleagues, but they were still catching up to him. Of course, it made perfect sense. His oldest daughter, Shea, had been married these twelve years and had a daughter of her own, Madison. His baby girl, Trish, was now getting married to the man of her dreams. While every father wants to make his daughter the happiest woman on earth, Thomas had to admit to some reservations regarding his future son-in-law. There was something...off...about him.

He had tried to talk to Trish about it before, and, while she always listened patiently, she refused to give in. She was bound and determined to marry Henry, if it was the last thing she did. So, Thomas had given up...at least to all outward appearances he had. He had one last string to pull, the string that could unravel the entire wedding. Thinking of such, Thomas picked up his phone off of the table that was near the side of his chair. He scrolled through the contacts and his thumb hovered over the call button when a specific name was highlighted. Changing his mind, he shut the phone and put it back on the table. He would attend to _that_ particular business transaction later.

Clamping his cigar firmly between his teeth, he laid back in the chair in an attempt to relax. Pretty soon his life was going to be quite lively as Trish Wellington was planning on marrying Henry Dunn in just over two weeks' time.

**::~*~::**

**A/N: Hmmm...I don't know if I should be worried or not that my intro to this story collection was longer then the actual first chapter. Oh well, you've been introduced. From now on, just the stories.**


	2. Madison Allen

Madison sat at her desk in the fourth grade classroom, staring dazedly out of the window by her desk. It was a beautiful fall day in mid-October but Madison had more then the crisp autumn afternoon to look forward to. Today was her last day in school before she went on vacation. Her favorite aunt (or rather, her _only_ aunt) was getting married on an island off of the coast in a little more than a week. Madison was excited about escaping school for three weeks, regardless of the fact that her parents had been entertaining an idea of hiring a tutor for those three weeks so she didn't fall way behind in her studies. Her three-week absence had made her quite popular among her classmates, even though she didn't really consider more then two or three of them friends of hers. It made her laugh to know how much her classmates already despised school having only been back for less then a month. Madison...well...she was indifferent to schooling. She liked it, but she tended to get bored very easily.

Madison was called away from her daydreaming by the sound of her teacher's voice directing her to answer the next question in their math lesson. Madison had not been paying attention to the lesson, but she was pretty smart when it came to math. The teacher repeated the question and Madison effortlessly answered it before turning back to the window.

It was towards the end of the day and she could see some of the parents waiting on the street outside to pick up their children. Her eyes brightened considerably when she saw her daddy among the throng. Her expression turned even happier when she saw Katherine standing next to her daddy. Her daddy hardly ever came to pick her up from school and she loved spending time with her new grandmother whenever she could. This day couldn't be any more perfect!

As she sat watching, completely oblivious to the goings-on in her classroom, she bit her bottom lip as she saw her daddy kiss Katherine quickly on the mouth. Unsure of what the reasoning behind that was, she turned away and stared blankly at the polished wooden top of her desk. She tried to pass it off as just a family thing, a show of the respect and admiration between a mother and a son (or, son-in-law, in this case), but something seemed wrong in the way they had embraced.

Madison was pulled from her musings by the sound of the school bell signaling the end of the school day. Stuffing her notebook into her backpack, she bolted from the room. When she emerged outside, her daddy and Katherine were standing apart, waiting with happy faces for her arrival. Madison wasn't sure what to do with what she had seen, so she dismissed it from her mind, for the time being, and ran into her daddy's open arms.


	3. Cal Vandeusen

**A/N: I had so much fun with Cal, so I hope everyone gets a good laugh out of it. See if you can figure out what he's doing...**

::~*~::

Cal gazed with apprehension at all of them, glittering in the display in front of him. He reached tentatively towards one, then, changing his mind, he reached for another one, before changing his mind again and just pulled his hand away. He bit his lower lip as he studied all of them, each as exquisite as the next. How does one possibly choose one over another?

The sales associate stood at attention behind the counter and watched Cal with amusement. Cal had walked into the store thirty minutes before, quickly getting apprehended by the aforementioned associate, who sought to discover his needs. Cal had stumbled over his words as he had looked quite fearfully at all of the options present. His mind had kept echoing that same question over and over again as the sheer weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him. How does one possibly choose one over another?

It had to be perfect. It had to be beautiful. It had to be...her. Cal had said that to the associate. Could they even reflect their owner's personality and character? The associate had wasted no time in saying that they could. Many things belonging to people tended to reflect their owner's taste, personality, likes and dislikes, etc. Cal's mind had whirled as he looked once more in horror at everything in front of him. How does one possibly choose one over another?

Now he was in his present predicament. The associate had wheedled more information out of Cal and had finally managed to narrow down the limitless possibilities to five potential candidates. Five was still too much for Cal, but at least five was better then hundreds. As his eyes traveled back and forth between the five, he could feel a sweat break out on his forehead. Grabbing a handkerchief out of his pocket, he quickly mopped his forehead. He could feel the eyes of the associate boring into his skull. His background in medicine, while tending towards the inanimate side, told him that if he wasn't careful, he would be suffering from a panic attack very soon. How does one possibly choose one over another?

The associate said something and Cal looked at him in absolute confusion. The associate repeated himself ("Very carefully") and Cal realized that his mind-plaguing question had been uttered aloud. Requesting a moment to gather his thoughts, he practically fled the store to the fresh air outside. He had not realized how claustrophobic the store had become until he reached the wide, open outdoors. Leaning against the glass window outside, he gulped in deep breaths of the fresh air, all the while checking his heart rate. He was relieved to discover that his beats were slowing down with every breath he took. After five minutes, he had gotten himself under control and had taken up pacing. As if struck with an epiphany, he stopped mid-stride. He now knew which one stood out above the others.

Running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, he yanked the door back open and strode purposefully back inside and over to the counter with a determined step. Without missing a beat, he pointed directly at the display and announced, "That one!"


	4. Joel Booth

**A/N: Thanks Martine Brooke for being my first reviewer here! I'm glad you liked Cal's story. I definitely had fun writing it and, thus far, it's my favorite one.**

::~*~::

Joel had been sitting calmly at the library cubicle, just minding his own business as he continued work on his paper, when the little icon at the bottom corner of his laptop screen popped up with the traditional "New Email" message. He had been getting frustrated with the lack of insight into the writing of his paper, so he silently welcomed the interruption. He was soon to revoke that wish. _Why me?_ he thought morosely. Many times over the course of of his college career he had wondered how he had ever befriended Danny, Sully, Malcolm and Henry. He certainly didn't have the type of character that moved in the same social circles as those four. Oh well, what did he know. He hadn't gone thru many years of schooling to study the intricacies of society.

He had one of those bad habits of running his hands thru his hair in nerve-wracking situations, and the present situation was no different than the many that preceded it. Henry Dunn, one of his best friends, had just emailed him to see if he could be a groomsman at his wedding in September. Joel had never been asked to be a groomsman before. He wasn't one of those fun-loving, adventure-seeking kind of guys. He couldn't be the life of the party. Nobody would be crazy enough to offer him a position that required he be all of those things. _It was a mistake. Henry accidentally inserted my email address instead of someone else's; someone cool enough to be a groomsman._ Joel decided to remedy that by replying to Henry's email, asking if he put Joel's address in by accident. He sent to email and went back to his paper.

Ten minutes later, the email icon popped up again. Joel was apprehensive about clicking on it. It most likely was a mistake, but a small part of him dreaded reading it, on the off-chance that Henry had been correct. He let it sit for a few minutes more while he tried to concentrate on the business proposal he was working on for a class. He couldn't focus, no matter what he tried. He attempted to close his eyes and mentally plot out the proposal, but even in the darkness of his mind, he still saw the blinking icon. He got up and paced back and forth in front of the laptop screen, purposely avoiding looking at it, but his eyes were always inadvertently drawn back to the lower right-hand corner.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. Sliding smoothly back into the chair, he resisted the temptation no longer and clicked on the icon. _Dude, what makes you think it was a mistake? You're one of my best friends and I want you to share in my special day. It was so _not_ a mistake, so I hope you say you'll do it._ Joel read and re-read the short email over and over again. Someone wanted him to be a part of something special. Henry _actually_ wanted him there, standing beside him, on the happiest day of his life. Joel couldn't believe it. He was always the guy to quietly slip into the back row of these events, not talking to anyone, and quickly leaving before anyone noticed his meek presence. Now he was requested to be standing front and, almost, center. While he felt that Henry's decision was sincere, he still had reservations of his own. _Henry, I really appreciate the offer, but I really don't think I'm the right person for this. I'm sure you know tons of other fun people to be a groomsman. I'd be happy to be a guest and to be able to support you on that day, in that fashion._ He clicked "Send."

All thoughts of his assignment had fled. He now kept his eyes glued to the corner of his laptop screen. He didn't have to wait long; Henry's response was very prompt. _Joel, if you _really_ don't want to be a groomsman in my wedding, I do understand, though I hope you'll rethink your decision. The days I spent with you and Sully, Malcolm, and Danny at college were some of the happiest days of my twenties (thus far). It would mean so much to me if you could do this, but I also understand your disposition. No matter what you decide, I still hope you are able to make it to the wedding. I know Trish would love to see you again. Henry._ Joel contemplated his decision again, but he felt that it was no longer a no-brainer. He knew what he had to do. He clicked "Reply."


	5. Jimmy Mance

**A/N: Finally, the first one-shot featuring an island inhabitant! This is, by far, the longest one-shot I've written for this collection. I kind of like how this one came out, but I wish I could have delved a little deeper into Jimmy's thoughts. I'm still working on descriptive thought-processes. Sometimes I surprise myself, though. In regards to this chapter, I am using the widely accepted timeline for the events on the island (just Google "Harper's Island timeline" and the first link that comes up should be the one that I have referred to constantly). Basically, the wedding is on Saturday, September 20, 2008 and everything revolves around that date.**

**I know that once a week is just drawing out this story longer than it needs to be, but until I finish the one shots, that's how it's going to stay. On a more positive note, I am just past the halfway mark. Here is where they stand:**

**Completed: Abby, Beth, Booth, Cal, Chloe, Danny, Henry, Jimmy, Katherine, Madison, Maggie, Marty, ****Richard, Sully, Thomas**

**WIP: Charlie, Hunter, JD, Kelly, Lucy, Malcolm, Nikki, Shane, Shea, Trish**

**Any preference on which story you want next (out of the complete list ~ underlined are already posted)?**

**::~*~::**

Jimmy carefully positioned the overflowing net of fish over the large bin on his fishing trawler before pulling the cord to dump the fish into the bin. After shaking all of the fish out of the net and tossing the escapist fish that had fallen out onto the deck, he examined the catch. He frowned in disappointment. While his net had been overflowing, his total catch for the day was dismal. He was hovering just below the halfway mark on the large bin he used for storing the fish while awaiting transport to the marina. Looking up into the sky, he marked the sun's position and exhaled a heavy sigh as he started pouring buckets of ice over the fish. There was no time for another run. Maggie wasn't going to be happy.

"Hey man, the fish just aren't out there today." Jimmy looked up and squinted into the direction of the setting sun. His best friend Shane was climbing on deck from where he had been working below. Shane stopped at the top of the stairs and gave Jimmy a funny look. "Everything alright?" Jimmy just shrugged his shoulders and gave Shane a weak smile before turning back to the ice bucket in his hands. He shook the remaining bit over the fish and smoothed the ice covering so that all the fish were preserved from the dry, salty air. He pulled the net off of the hook and folded it up before storing it in one of the few storage lockers that were bolted to the deck.

Jimmy wondered how long he could keep the news from Shane. It was only a matter of time before he heard it from somewhere else and he would know that Jimmy had known the whole time. Jimmy wasn't stupid. He knew that he had been dispirited the last few weeks and once Shane found out the reason why, he would never forgive Jimmy. When Jimmy himself had first heard, he had hardly known how to take it. In fact, now, a few weeks later, his mind was still coping with the unexpected news. Shane may have a rough, uncaring exterior, but Jimmy had known him for years. Shane was worried about him.

That day was burned into Jimmy's mind, much like the sun that day had burned into his flesh. It was as fresh and clear as if it had just happened yesterday. Regardless of the fact that it was only a memory, Jimmy felt the sensations as strongly as if he were living it over again now.

_It was a hot day in mid-August and Jimmy and Shane had returned in the early afternoon with their biggest catch of the season. They had been forced to make for the marina much earlier in the day then they had planned for, but it was for the best of reasons. It had been a glorious day and the fishing bin had been so full that the ice covering them to protect them from the sun's harsh rays had been unnaturally thin, and whenever the _Sea Jay_ had crested a steep wave, fish would flop out and slide across the deck. While Jimmy had been busy steering, Shane had run to and fro across the deck, tossing fish left and right, back into the bin until the next wave shook them loose again. After fifteen minutes of doing this, Shane gave up. He had crawled to the side of the fishing boat, hooked his arm around the rail for stability, popped the top on a beer and proceeded to drink the rest of the way back. Jimmy had laughed loudly and heartily as Shane had glared at him across the fish strewn deck. _

_When they had arrived back at the marina, both men had had to wade through fish scattered across the deck, ankle-deep. In order to preserve as many fish as possible, they had had to get to work quickly and efficiently to start loading the fish into their crates. While many of the fishermen hanging around nearby looked on enviously, Jimmy and Shane focused completely on their task. They made short work of it and only a couple of hours had elapsed when the majority of the crates were loaded into the back of Jimmy's truck, safely encased in ice and the rest were stashed in the locker that Jimmy rented at the fisherman's warehouse. Jimmy climbed into his truck and shifted it into gear. His destination…the Candlewick Inn. _

_The drive to the Candlewick was pleasant, although the sun's torturous rays beat down heavily upon him. Jimmy was fortunate that the route to the Inn wound alongside the forest's edge occasionally weaving within its strong exterior and kept the sun away from him for much of the journey. When he finally broke through the trees, he brought his truck to a stop. Even though he had been to the Candlewick many times before, the sight of it never ceased to amaze him. Especially now with the sun dipping towards the horizon, the light reflecting off the many windows dazzled the eye. Recollecting his mission, he put the truck into gear again and followed the small service road to the rear of the building, right up to the kitchen doors. _

_A quick knock on the doors alerted the staff to his arrival and the many kitchen chefs, chefs-in-training, busboys and kitchen assistants filed out the door to haul in the crates. Jimmy watched them fascinated. He and Shane had laughed on numerous occasions about the sheer number of Candlewick employees in the kitchen alone! After eating at the Candlewick a couple of times, Jimmy's lighthearted laughter at their former banter had diminished. The food was exquisite. He had had to hand it to Maggie. She knew what she was doing._

_Once all of the crates had been hauled inside to sit on the counters while awaiting prep, Jimmy went in search of Maggie. He was due to meet up with Shane at The Cannery to shoot some pool and cool off after this blistering day. Knocking on Maggie's door, he received no answer. After knocking again and still getting no response, he opened the door and peeked into the office. Empty. Groaning at his cursed luck that had him waiting on Maggie, he collapsed onto a chair in the hallway outside of the office. He knew Maggie would verbally whip him if he presumed to walk about the Inn in his fishy smelling clothing with slight remnants of fish guts still on his pants. _

_He didn't have to wait long as Maggie's voice preceded her figure around the corner. He was standing patiently by her door, when she appeared and she gave him a bright smile as she hastened to open the door and usher him in. Once inside, Jimmy set the invoice in front of her. She glanced down the list and then grabbed a pen to sign._

_"I know that this is probably late notice, but I'll need one more delivery the second week of September," Maggie told him as she put the finishing flourish on her signature. _

_Jimmy's face screwed up in confusion as he eyed Maggie with skepticism. "The tourist season is over with by then. What do you need another load for?"_

_Jimmy almost wished he hadn't asked as Maggie fixed him with an annoyed expression. "I am well aware that the tourist season is usually over with by then, but the Candlewick is hosting a large wedding party the third week in September, so I'll need another load, though smaller, to be delivered on," she paused as she flipped up the large calendar on her desk to eye the next month, "hmmm…Saturday the 13__th__. That's one week before the wedding and two days before the party arrives." She looked up at him and waited for his response. Jimmy didn't know what to say. He had followed her gaze to the month of September, had followed her finger as moved it across the second week of the month, had followed it as it tapped twice on Saturday the 13__th__ before moving down to Saturday the 20__th__, had looked with astonishment at the words scrawled upon Saturday the 20__th__…"The Dunn/Wellington Wedding." Dunn/Wellington. Henry Dunn and Trish Wellington. They were getting married. Here. On the island. That might mean…_

_He shook his head. "Yeah," he replied slowly, "that shouldn't be a problem. The catch might not as good, but we'll do something. We wouldn't want to disappoint your guests…" he trailed off as he noticed Maggie was eyeing him with apprehension. He realized that he had been rambling, so he attempted to change the subject. He had to know. "So, this wedding. Anyone we're acquainted with?"_

_"Perhaps," she replied, taking care to let the calendar fall back into place, neatly on her desk. "Why do you want to know?"_

_Jimmy decided to play a risky card and cater to her love of the Candlewick in order to get the information from her. "It's just that, being the off season, I didn't think anyone would plan a wedding here, but I suppose that could be just what the happy couple desires. Seclusion and lack of tourists in order that the efficient and well-oiled machine that is the Candlewick can properly cater to their every need. Besides, with your normal clientele, I can only guess that it would be someone wealthy enough to make it worth your while. Someone who obviously knows where to find quality service…" Jimmy mentally kicked himself. He was _so_ bad at this whole kissing-up thing._

_It appeared that he had met with success, though. Maggie beamed at Jimmy's reference to her employees and the efficiency of the Candlewick quickly answered his question. "It's none other than Mr. Thomas Wellington's youngest daughter getting married to none other than our very own Henry Dunn. Well, I guess he isn't quite 'our very own,' but he came here so often during childhood that I often think of him as one of us."_

_"Wow!" Jimmy said, trying to put as much enthusiasm as he could muster into his voice. "That's quite the wedding announcement. I expect they're going to try and share it with many of their closest friends." Jimmy stopped. He wasn't sure if there was any roundabout way to ask what he so desperately sought to discover. Luckily, Maggie saved him from his nervous fretting. _

_Gazing at him intently with a sly look in her eye, she smiled mischievously at him. "I know what you're after Mr. Mance and the answer is…possibly. While Abby Mills is on the guest list, her decision to attend the wedding has not been verified as of yet."_

_Despite the conflicting feelings that he would be faced with in the coming weeks, Jimmy couldn't help grinning like an idiot right then. He quickly changed his expression to one more neutral when Maggie cleared her throat in an attempt to bring Jimmy out of his reverie. He flashed a quick smile at her, his classic 'Jimmy smile' before excusing himself and escaping the office and the Inn._

During the intervening weeks, Jimmy's emotions had taken him on quite the wild rollercoaster ride. Even now, on the Saturday he was deliver the requested load of fish to the Candlewick, he still couldn't trust his feelings. He had made up his mind the night before to hurt Abby the way she had hurt him. He would appear friendly to her, but he would prove to her that Jimmy was so over Abby. She meant nothing to him. It was going to be easy. A piece of cake.


	6. Katherine Wellington

**A/N: I will be out of town next Monday and I don't think I'll have access to a WiFi computer, so I will probably be uploading the next chapter this coming Friday (16th) and then foregoing another chapter until the 26th. Enjoy!**

**::~*~::**

Katherine wrung her hands in nervousness. She had never done anything like this before and the anxiety was threatening to envelope her in its smothering embrace. How did it get to this point? She was happy with Thomas. He cared for her and he worked hard to keep up the lavish lifestyle she had grown accustomed to as his wife. She never wanted for anything as he went to great lengths to satisfy her every desire. It wasn't just for the material comforts that she adored him, either. Their romantic life was amazing; certainly nothing to complain about. They enjoyed each others' company and she loved to hear him laugh, especially when it was her who made it so.

As she paced back and forth in the small room, she realized that she truly _did_ love Thomas. Of course, there had always been some part of her that always loved him, but she had long thought of this marriage as a marriage of convenience. She was living a comfortable lifestyle and he got a young "trophy wife," a term she had often overheard in conversation as people whispered behind their backs. The fact that she was only a little more than a week older than her step_daughter_ spoke volumes to all who knew the family intimately. Yes, she loved Thomas and he was a good man who deserved a wife who was faithful in all her dealings.

She had gathered up her purse and shawl and was about to leave when she thought of _him_. He was the reason she was here right now. Her hand hovered above the doorknob as she thought back to the first time she had been alone with him. He had come over to see Thomas, to talk business. Thomas was at his club and had not been due back for another couple of hours. Katherine had invited him in and they had retired to the lounge where they could talk with ease. Their banter was light and full of simple topics; neither really wanted to talk of anything truly serious. He laughed, she laughed, they moved closer to each other on the sofa so as to speak more conspiratorially, though their conversations did not turn more secretive. Then it happened.

Katherine retreated to sit on the edge of the bed as the memory continued. She had laughed at a joke he had told, as she lightly slapped his hand, as if to scold him for such a raucous story. What she had not expected was the electric spark that exploded when their skin made contact. She had pulled away, rather quickly, and the expression on his face confirmed her fears (or hopes?) that he had felt it, too. Unsure of what to do, he seemed to make up his mind before she could finish processing the fiery feeling she felt in her chest. He leaned over to kiss her, gently at first, than more powerfully. Confused by this awkward situation, she pulled away, even though every inch of her skin was craving to be enfolded in his arms. It turns out it was the right choice as, just after they parted, the front door was heard opening and Thomas' booming voice could be heard calling for his wife. By the time he entered the lounge, Katherine was sitting alone on the sofa and Richard was gazing out of one of the many windows. Thomas had not suspected a thing and it was not long before the two men had secluded themselves in Thomas' study. Katherine had remained sitting on the sofa, thinking over the ramifications that could arise from that moment of indiscretion. She was still there when Richard left and her husband came looking for her.

She bit her bottom lip as she weighed the two men in her mind. Thomas was her husband, but he had never made her feel the way Richard had. Every stolen moment with Richard was passionate and adventurous. No, this was wrong. She had to leave before she was captivated by Richard's power. Once more, she rose and, picking up her things, she half-walked, half-ran to the door. Opening it, she was confronted with Richard's penetrating eyes, gazing intently into her own and suddenly, she lost the will to leave.


	7. Abby Mills

**A/N: As promised, here is the next chapter since I won't be here on Monday. Enjoy!**

**::~*~::**

Abby sat in front of her television set, trying her hardest to focus on the show that was playing. As much as she tried, she couldn't concentrate on it. Her mind was hundreds of miles away on a small island off the coast of Seattle. Frustration threatened to overwhelm her as she buried her head in one of her couch pillows and let loose a scream. _Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did he have to choose there? Of all places!_ Abby's mind was in constant turmoil and had been for several weeks.

Her best friend, Henry Dunn, had approached her, in person, a few weeks back. She had been surprised when he had dropped by her apartment one morning and asked if she wanted to have lunch with him as he had something to tell her. Millions of things had run rampant through her mind. _Were he and Trish fighting again? Had Mr. Wellington finally put his foot down about Henry dating his daughter? Was something wrong with JD? Uncle Marty? _Abby's racing thoughts had skidded to an abrupt stop. She had realized that Henry had been supremely happy when he had stopped in, so it couldn't be anything bad. Abby had to put her musings on hold as her publisher had called soon after Henry left, to talk about her latest project.

Two hours later, Abby had strolled through the entrance of the classy restaurant that Henry had picked out. She had been a little surprised at his expensive choice, but she had had to remind herself that Henry was actually doing quite well in the business world. While he was nowhere near as wealthy as the Wellingtons, he was quite successful and considered well off for a bachelor.

Abby had spotted Henry in a secluded alcove seating near a corner window and had quickly approached him. They had hugged in the familiar fashion of two people who were the best of friends before sitting down. Abby noticed that Henry couldn't stop grinning and she soon realized how infectious that was. Henry then announced the important "something." He was getting married to Trish. Abby had had to control herself to keep from leaping across the table to grab him in an enthusiastic bear hug. She quickly asked for more news about the happy event. She had listened rapturously as he told of the initial plans that Trish had for the wedding, about how she had already planned out events for an entire week! Abby's eyes had widened at that, but she quickly brushed the surprise aside. Trish came from money, so she could afford to host wedding activities for an entire week.

Henry had then gone on to list who he was thinking of asking to be his best man and his groomsmen. Abby smiled at Henry's mention of Sully. Sully was an excellent choice for best man. He would take prodigious care of Henry during his last days as a bachelor, but he would also stand firm by Henry's side as he waited by the altar on the happiest day of his life. As for the other potential groomsmen, Booth, Danny, and Malcolm; Abby couldn't wait to see them again. Abby was good friends with Sully, having met him through Henry one summer when Sully joined Henry on the island, but the others she had only interacted with infrequently as she had moved to Los Angeles by then and Henry only brought them on rare occasions to visit.

Henry listed off Trish's candidates for bridesmaids, mentioning that Trish had always planned on having her sister as her maid-of-honor. Trish had made up her mind on that back when she was just a child. As for the bridesmaids themselves, Abby had only met Lucy once or twice as she often accompanied Trish to Harper's Island years ago. The others, Abby had never met before.

Henry and Abby had had fun catching up on old times, paying particular attention to keeping the conversation well away from the year 2001. Whenever they strayed too close, Abby always changed topics quickly and abruptly. Once she had caught Henry's eye as she did so and she saw a glimmer of...hurt? in his eyes. She had been unsure of what it was, but she didn't want to start down that path. She was, in all actuality, still healing.

The bomb dropped after Henry had paid the bill. He was getting married on Harper's Island. Abby had been stunned into silence and for almost five minutes, she sat in absolute shock, staring blankly at the white linen tablecloth, her mouth opened in the surprised O-shape. Henry hadn't pressed the issue; he had let her sit in silence until the news had fully sunk in. Finally, she had raised her eyes to meet his and uttered the only word her lips could form, _Why?_ Henry had been adamant about creating happy memories on the island again, especially after so much heartache. He felt it would be good for those who had been there that day, as a part of the healing process, and it was really the only thing he wanted out of his wedding. He was fully prepared to let Trish have her way with the rest of the plans, but he just wanted the location. Trish, he went on, had been apprehensive but when he explained his reasoning to her, she had been unable to say no to him. She had actually praised his forward thinking about using their wedding as a way to associate good memories with island again.

An explosion from the television almost sent Abby farther back in her memories; back to a place she didn't want to go as it still scared her. Luckily, though, her phone rang seconds later and she was pulled back to the present. Glancing down at the display, she saw Henry's name lighting up the screen. She bit her lip as she struggled with what to tell him. Honestly, she still didn't have an answer for him. She knew he would be satisfied, up until the boat's departure, with anything but a definite "no." She hit the "answer" button.


	8. Beth Barrington

**A/N: My apologies in not getting this up until today. It's been quite the busy week for me. I actually haven't been working on these one-shots for a while now, so I am starting to slowly catch up with where I finished off, especially since I am getting ready to enter the one-shots that I completed, but am not satisfied with. I may just re-work those ones, before starting any new ones. I am kind of neutral about this one, so any feedback would be appreciated. **

**::~*~::**

Beth mopped the sweat off of her forehead with the towel hanging around her neck. Not giving in to the sore muscles in her legs, she turned her mp3 player up a little louder and slightly increased the speed of the treadmill. She was going to be a bridesmaid in her former college roommate's wedding in just over a month. And, Trish wasn't _just_ a former college roommate to Beth. She considered Trish one of her dearest friends. After they had gone their separate ways after college they still stayed in touch and often met together for girl's nights or weekends, depending on how far they were from each other at any particular time.

Beth pushed herself even harder and she could feel the sweat practically flooding down the back of her neck as it traced rivulets all the way down her spine. She was severely out of shape and she wanted to look her best for the wedding. She knew Trish wasn't as superficial as to care about how her bridesmaids looked, body shape-wise, but she still wanted to look great for the wedding. A smile crept over her face as she thought of her last conversation with Trish. It had been over the phone as Trish was in Seattle with Henry and they were both conducting their final meetings with various wedding vendors. Trish had laughingly spoken of Henry's groomsmen and, with quite obvious undertones, described their looks, personalities and any other tidbits she could dredge up from Henry, after she had exhausted her own knowledge of the guys. Beth had been thoroughly entertained by the conversation, but her thoughts had taken a more serious turn later that day.

Beth's smile quickly turned into a frown as she thought of her last boyfriend. Unconsciously, she started running faster and faster until she was practically sprinting on the treadmill, but she paid no attention to what she was doing. Her fiery thoughts had turned to that no-good, lazy-bum, pig she had the misfortune to call a "boyfriend" only a short time ago. He had seemed like such a great guy when she first met him at a carnival she had gone to with friends, but as time went on, she discovered a little more about him and a little more, and a little more. She was appalled when they had dined out that evening, after Trich's phone call, and he made crude comments to her about an overweight woman who was dining on a sliver of chocolate cake at a table just a few away from them. She had been so shocked at his rudeness that she couldn't speak for the entire dinner, not to mention the loss of appetite that had resulted as well. When they had gotten into the car to go back to her apartment, she had laid it out for him. She didn't like to tell people that she had been obese when she was younger. Not from a feeling of shame, but it was just a part of her life that existed solely in the past, and she was a new person now, so she saw no reason to dwell on it. She told him, point blank, about her childhood obesity. He was silent for the ride home, but not when he called her later.

He called her after she had been home for not even ten minutes and said that he couldn't be with someone with a history of obesity. He didn't want their kids to look fat and ugly. She had been taken aback at his forwardness, but while words had failed her earlier in the restaurant, she felt no lack of speech now. With her fury barely held in check, she had told him exactly what she thought of him and his biased nature. Without even allowing him a word in edgewise, she hung up once she had finished her tirade. He hadn't bothered calling back, then or anytime since.

That had been two weeks ago. Beth had sworn off men forever, but like any single, twenty-something girl, she knew that was a short lived oath. Bearing all of that in mind, she couldn't decide whether to approach the upcoming wedding with eager anticipation or absolute dread.

Panting from the exertion she had put forth in her workout, she slammed her hand against the ON/OFF button and stopped the treadmill. As she went to step off the machine, she had to grip the handle with white knuckles to keep herself from falling down. Once she made it safely to a bench off to the side, she wiped the sweat off of her skin before laying down on the bench and stared up at the ceiling. She made a resolution, right there, that she would enjoy the festivities and the company, no matter what the week brought.


	9. Maggie Krell

**A/N: Another one I'm kind of neutral on. This was actually the first one I wrote when I got the idea for these one-shots in my head.**

**::~*~::**

Maggie Krell hastened down the deserted corridor of the Candlewick Inn. She barely registered where she was going as a thousand and one things occupied her presently frazzled mind. She was expecting a rather large party on the morrow and she was personally overseeing everything to make sure all went smoothly for her guests.

She had been rather astonished when she had received word from Henry Dunn a couple of months back. He had called to say that he was getting married and that his fiancée, Trish, and he wanted to have their wedding on the island. Which meant they would need a classy location to house the guests for a week. Maggie had jumped at the happy news and had quickly gotten to work readying the Inn and planning the wedding. She remembered him from when he was younger and he ran around with the local kids on the island years ago. She had practically watched him grow up alongside his brother, JD, and Abby, Kelly, Jimmy, Shane, and some of the other kids.

Maggie paused at the bottom of the stairs leading from the second to the third floor of the Inn. She smiled fondly at one particular memory she had of the local kids. It was during the Christmas season one year and the kids had been itching to do something fun. Henry and JD had come over from the mainland to spend the winter break from school with their friends from the island, but as there had been a consistent snowfall that year, they were restricted to indoor activities. The Candlewick had been closed for almost four months (since the end of the season in the beginning of September), but Maggie had been inspired to reopen the Inn for a Christmas extravaganza for the kids. It had been held two days before Christmas (or, what the kids liked to call "Christmas Eve Eve"). The day had started with the ultimate hide-and-seek game which kept everyone entertained until the early hours of the afternoon, after which there had been more sedate games in the main rooms of the Inn.

Maggie shook her head as she remembered how she had been patrolling this very hallway (due to the size of the building, the adults had taken it upon themselves to make sure the kids were well looked after). She had been casually pacing the corridor when Abby Mills had come blasting around the corner with Henry in hot pursuit. Maggie might have been alarmed if they had looked angry, but they were laughing and shouting in delight, so Maggie allowed them to pass with only minor calls to them to be safe and not to break anything.

Realizing the amount of work to be done for the out-of-season party, Maggie quickly returned to the present. Glancing down at the to-do list in her hand, she practically ran up the steps to the third floor. It was already way past sunset and Maggie had only to check the guest rooms one more time before returning home for the evening.

**:: ~*~ ::**

Maggie had just exited the last guest room when she heard a faint noise coming from inside the room. Peering back inside, she flipped the light on and gazed around the normal looking room. Even though nothing looked out of place, she had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching her.

As she was about to leave the room again, a slight ruffling of the bedside curtains brought her attention back into the room. Forcing a dry chuckle from her lips, she marched over to the window, only to find it open and a chilled breeze wafting through. She couldn't recall the window having been open when she did her walkthrough, but it was late enough and she was tired enough, that she probably just missed it.

Grabbing a hold of the window, she struggled for a few minutes to get it to come down and, as it was sliding closed, she spied a figure standing in the shadows just outside of the Inn. A shiver ran down her spine as she recollected that she was the only one still at the Inn, therefore, good or bad, she had to confront this person herself. The figure was standing there so calm and motionless that Maggie wondered what they were waiting for. In the dark recesses of her mind, she half imagined some crazed lunatic sneaking up behind her while his companion watched below. The thought was enough to make her turn around and peer into the corners of the room. Seeing nothing, she turned back towards the window.

She had started to open the window again, in order to holler down at the figure to see what he or she wanted, when she was startled to discover that they were gone. Glancing at her watch, Maggie saw that it was just past eleven. Shrugging her shoulders, she didn't put it past her to have imagined the closed window and the dark figure. She wasn't a big fan of crime drama television, movies, or books, but she had encountered a few here and there and they had left their marks.

Even as she locked up the Inn and started home, Maggie couldn't shake the dark and foreboding feeling that had seized her mind.


	10. Nikki Bolton

Nikki wiped the cloth over the polished wooden counter that was her bar. If she had actually been paying attention, she might have started to worry about wiping the polish right off of the bar, but, she wasn't paying attention to her rag, wiping the same spot, over and over and over again. Her eyes were fixed intently on a guy and a girl on the other side of the room from where her counter lay. Her expression kept changing from shooting daggers into the guy's back and eliciting concern over the girl's features.

_If he makes one wrong move..._ Nikki let the unfinished thought dangle in her mind. Kelly had broken up with Shane a few weeks prior, but Shane kept following Kelly around like a lost...not puppy dog. Nikki bit her bottom lip in thought. Shane was more like a Doberman Pinscher. Extremely loyal with few, but a raging ball of fury with everyone else. Nikki wasn't exactly sure where Kelly fit in on that scale yet, but as Shane hadn't made any threatening moves towards her, well, Nikki couldn't really do anything until he did. She hoped it didn't come to that.

Nikki's eyes finally fell to the motion of her right hand and she immediately whipped the rag away from the bar. She swore as she leaned down to eyeball the counter, but a sigh of relief left her lips. She hadn't completely wiped the polish from the counter, but she couldn't deny that it was a bit thinner. Maybe Jimmy had something that could fix that. She made a mental note to ask him the next day.

Sparing one last glance towards the uncomfortable couple, and not noticing anything awry, she grabbed a bucket of used glasses and disappeared into the back to wash them for business the next day. It was pretty close to closing time and, with the exception of Nikki, Shane and Kelly, there were only two other occupants in the Cannery, both fishermen who had just paid their bills and were getting ready to return home for a few hours of sleep before heading back out to sea.

The rush of the water spewing forth out of the faucet drowned out all other noise and Nikki quickly scrubbed the glasses clean, before setting them on the racks by the sinks. It wasn't until she shut off the water that she heard raised voices coming from the main room. "Shane!" Nikki angrily mumbled under her breath. She threw down the towel she had been drying her hands on and stormed furiously into the barroom.

Without missing a beat, she took in the scene as she moved out from behind the counter and across the room. Shane had apparently taken advantage of Nikki's absence to corner Kelly, which was exactly how Nikki found them. Shane had Kelly's wrist held in a vice-like grip, as he was threatening her in a low voice full of anger. Nikki grabbed Shane's collar at the back of the neck and, with a strength that even surprised herself, she ripped him away from Kelly. Shane, not used to this kind of treatment from Nikki, of all people, quickly gained his balance and swung around to confront Nikki, only to find her standing between him and Kelly.

"Get out of here, Shane," Nikki said threateningly. Nikki had folded her arms over her chest and was looking at him with a look that plainly expressed her current hatred of him. Nikki watched as Shane's lips curled away from his teeth and she was struck by how much he resembled a rabid dog. The look he shot at her was pure venom, but Nikki refused to back down. Kelly was her friend and she wasn't going to leave her to face Shane alone. "Don't make me ask you again."

Shane, glaring back and forth at Nikki and Kelly, seemed to be weighing the options in his head. Finally, he straightened up and stalked towards the exit. He turned to look once more at Nikki and Kelly, before a sick smile crossed his features and he spat on the barroom floor.

"Shane Pierce!" Nikki screamed at his retreating backside. She could feel her skin flushing bright red in anger, and she started across the barroom floor after him. Kelly grabbed her arm to keep her from following him. Nikki turned to snap at Kelly, but stopped at Kelly's expression.

"Don't," Kelly said quietly. "I'll clean it up." She stared vacantly at the door that Shane had disappeared through. Finally, Kelly's head dropped down and she took a napkin from the bar.

"You don't have to do that," Nikki replied, moving to block Kelly's way. Kelly just moved wordlessly past her. She knelt down to clean up the spot from the floor and when she was done, she sat down at one of the bar stools. Nikki just watched her silently. _What did Shane do to her?_ "At least let me give you a ride home? I don't want to risk you running into him out there."

"Okay," Kelly said.

"Let me finish cleaning up here and then we can head out." Nikki walked over to the door and opened it. She peered out into the darkness, making sure there was no one hanging around, especially a certain dark-haired individual who could set Nikki's blood to boiling. Seeing nothing, she closed the door again and locked it firmly behind her. She gave Kelly a quick smile while she moved about the room putting chairs and bar stools up. She covered the pool tables and put the darts from the dartboard safely behind the bar. She was putting the alcohol away, the last thing she had to do, when an idea struck her. Turning to Kelly, she put two shot glasses on the counter with a bottle of fiery liquid next to it.

"How about one on the house?"

**::~*~::**

**A/N: While this story is exclusively Nikki's one-shot, I wanted to make it known to my readers that I am a total Nikki/Shane shipper. He's abusive, violent and unpredictable, but I am pretty certain that Nikki can hold her own against him any day of the week and, in my eyes, while I can't see it being a long-term relationship, I can totally see it being passion-filled in the time they are together. It's like a love/hate relationship. With that being said, out of all the one-shots I have written, this one may actually have potential in spinning off into its own separate story. We'll see.**


	11. Henry Dunn

**A/N: Not one of my best, but it's alright for a short one-shot. Henry's is one of the more difficult minds for me to get into.**

**::~*~::**

Henry couldn't help a slight chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered his spacious Seattle apartment in the wee hours of the morning. As he tossed the keys on the kitchen counter, he glanced briefly at his luggage stacked in the corner, before grabbing a beer out of the fridge and popping the top on it. That luggage stood as a testament to his ultimate test. In three weeks' time, it was going to be _his_ turn. His actions would strike more fear into the hearts of men then his father's had done before him. Only Henry had an ulterior motive. Oh, his plans paralleled his father's for most of the time, but he had varied the ending. It was all going to end perfectly. He was going to have the girl of his dreams, they were going to live in happy seclusion where no one could bother them, and life was going to progress as usual.

Henry chugged the rest of his drink down and as he was doing so, his eye caught sight of his reflection in the decorative mirror on the wall in the living room. Startled by what he saw, he started choking on the beer. Spewing it out of his mouth, he charged angrily over to the mirror and lifted his chin again. A large spot of blood adorned his throat. _How could I have been so careless?_ he mentally chastised himself. He tore his shirt off and scrubbed furiously at the splotch, watching it rapidly disappear. Even though the spot had gone, he still saw the benefit of taking a shower. Trish was due to arrive in a few hours and he couldn't have her stumbling upon anything prematurely. She'd find out in due time.

Stripping off the rest of his clothing, most of which were bloodstained, he climbed into the scalding hot shower. He leaned his head against the shower wall as the water cascaded over his body. When he had first got in, he had watched little trickles of red slide down his skin and swirl around the drain before disappearing from sight. It was a matter of seconds before the water was completely clear again. Grabbing a bath sponge he scrubbed himself clean before shutting the water off and stepping out. What he really needed now was a short rest before Trish got there.

It was only after he had turned off the water that he heard the faint ringing of his phone. Wrapping a towel hastily around his waist, he strolled down the hallway to grab the phone off of the cradle, only to hear silence. The caller had hung up. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned to his bedroom to get dressed.

Clean and freshly dressed, he emerged from his bedroom a couple hours later, after a quick cat nap. There was no sense in raising suspicions from Trish on his late nights. Thinking of Trish, he stole a glance at his watch. She should be arriving any minute. Well, while he waited, he'd whip up some breakfast for himself, maybe a little bit for her if she was interested. As he was mixing the pancake batter, his cell started to ring. Remembering the phone call from the middle of the night, he checked the name on his phone. Trish. He answered it ("Hey sweetie"). She was about five minutes away ("Alright. Just come on in. Door's unlocked"). The call ended and his thoughts turned to the other phone call he had received during the night. Somehow, he doubted it had been Trish.

Pouring some batter on the hot griddle, he left the kitchen to grab his home phone while the pancakes cooked. Scrolling to the last number, he felt a moment's elation at seeing Abby's name. That elation faded when he also saw the timestamp. 4:06AM. What was Abby doing up at 4 in the morning? A surge of emotion flooded his body. With only three weeks to the wedding, he was terrified that she was going to decline the invitation. While he was her best friend, there were also a lot of terrible memories on the island for her, so it was completely understandable if she chose to stay away. He had always hoped that the history they had and the love she bore for him as a friend would be enough to overcome the memories of events occurring several years before. He supposed that the plans he had could still proceed forward with only minor adjustments in the long run.

Henry was pulled from his troublesome thoughts by the sound of Trish's voice as she walked in the front door, "Is something burning?"


	12. Kelly Seaver

**A/N: I don't think I nailed Kelly's personality here as it is portrayed in the show, but that's the difficult thing with these characters who died within the first four episodes. We don't get to fully explore their personalities. Not to mention, my source of Harper's Island info (Harper's Globe Wiki) has been down for the past week (or, I just can't access it), so I can't follow up on character profiles. Last, but definitely not least, I want to thank Martine Brooke in giving me an idea on Kelly's one-shot. As I started writing this one, I ended up giving Wakefield a cameo, but I hope it flows together alright. Thanks again Martine!**

**::~*~::**

Kelly clutched the withered flowers tightly in her hands. She was walking quickly through the woods behind her house, seeking a specific destination. Fall was coming early this year, as evidenced by the dead and dying leaves already starting to litter the forest floor. The sound of their crushing underfoot sounded very harsh and grating to her ears. It was late afternoon, but enclosed within the woods, it felt later than that. She had to hurry. She was due to meet up with Nikki in an hour and she didn't think Nikki would fully understand what Kelly was about to do and Kelly really wasn't up to explaining her actions at the moment. She could hardly comprehend why she was doing this, but it was too late to turn back now. She was almost there.

A rather powerful gust of wind tore through the wooded area, stirring up the crisp leaves in front of her and she was forced to halt her progress and take shelter against the trunk of a nearby tree. She cursed herself for not pulling her long dark hair back before setting out, but there was nothing to do about it now. Or maybe there was... Shifting the flowers to one hand, she started exploring her pockets, looking for a stray hair band, or a rubber band, or even a piece of string. She sighed in relief as her fingers closed around a rubber band. Pulling it out, she carefully set the flowers against the base of the tree, tucking them out of reach of the howling wind. Turning towards the wind, she let it blow her hair away from her face and she hurriedly moved to tie it back.

She crouched down to pick up the flowers and as she went to stand back up, movement from down the path caught her eye. The leaves that had been caught by the wind were now drifting towards the forest floor in the wake of the wind, but there was something...else...moving among the leaves. Standing up, she caught the movement again and was so startled by what she saw that she dropped the flowers. As if fate had a cruel sense of humor, another gust of wind blew through, scattering the flowers all across the forest floor, but she made no move to run after them. She was fixated by the figure who was standing down the trail, almost taunting her in his pose. He flashed her a wicked smile that sent chills running down her spine, before disappearing behind the tree.

From the moment she had first recognized him until he disappeared, only a few seconds had elapsed. Enough time for anyone else to claim it was just her imagination—but she knew better. This wasn't the first time she had seen him. It wasn't the first time he had haunted her footsteps and stalked her dreams. The only problem was, nobody believed her. She remembered when she had first seen him after the murders. It had been in a setting almost exactly like this one. She had seen him away in the distance and when she had tried to tell people what she had seen, they all shrugged her off. She should have seen it coming. Her entire manner had changed after Wakefield and she had simply set herself up for disbelief.

Everyone had looked at her like she was crazy—everyone except the sheriff... He had looked at her with different eyes. Eyes that chilled her to the bone. When she had first gone to him to tell him that she had seen Wakefield in the forest, he actually looked as though he believed her. For a split second, she had seen a flicker of fear and belief in his eyes. And that scared her more than anything else.

For some inexplicable reason, she started moving forward. Her mind was screaming at her legs to stop, but she couldn't. Something was drawing her forward. When she reached the spot where she had seen him, she looked around. There was nothing, not even any evidence that anyone had _ever_ been there. She collapsed against the nearest tree to catch her breath and get her wild thoughts under control. He was here. He was waiting for something...or someone.

Gathering up her courage she continued on. Some part of her mind convinced her that if he really wanted to harm her, he would have done it already. Unless he was waiting for her to reach her destination, before attacking. She faltered in her steps, but didn't stop. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. _Kelly, go back. Go back to where you're safe._ Even as her mind was pleading with her to turn around and flee the woods, she arrived at her destination.

The tree, that should have been just like any other tree, loomed over her. Her breath caught in her throat as she just stared up at it. It used to have such a beautiful history associated with it, but now it served only as a reminder of the tragedy that had struck exactly seven years before. Kelly shivered. She had a horrible feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Kelly fell to her knees in front of the tree. She had never been very close to her mother, though they had never been enemies, but she felt she needed to talk to her, here. Even if she couldn't talk back, and even though Kelly wasn't a religious person, she needed to believe that her mother could listen to her. For the first time in her life, she prayed. Not to a God she didn't believe in, but to a mother that she did.


	13. Chloe Carter

**A/N: It's official! I only have four more one-shots to write before I complete the prime twenty-five. It's down to Shea, Trish, Lucy and Malcolm (and I might completely rewrite Sully's as I had a thought the other day of another direction I could take his).**

::~*~::

Chloe sat quietly on the patio, enjoying the cool weather on her skin. England's late summers were so much cooler than Florida's were and she found herself enamored with the change. Only one more day in this gorgeous countryside before she had to head back to the States with Cal. She had definitely enjoyed visiting with his family.

When Cal had first proposed the idea to her, she had been ecstatic, but when he had left her alone to start making travel arrangements, the weight of what she had agreed to had started to weigh heavily upon her. She knew her own personality better than anyone else, because it was _her_ personality, and bearing that in mind, she knew that there a few negative things to be said about her character. She had overheard people talking about her more times than she cared to remember and she had the hurtful things engrained in her mind. According to the world, she was a ditzy blonde, who flirted outrageously with everyone, including men who were "taken." According to the world, she had no qualms about how she acted and she did what she pleased, when she pleased. Chloe had tried not to let the comments get to her, but they snuck in somehow. If only people would just understand that she was overly friendly and her flirtatious nature was just her most comfortable persona when in company. But, she knew that she was devoted to Cal and Cal knew that she was devoted to Cal, so, in all practicality, she didn't care what the rest of the world thought. He understood that it was part of who she was and he accepted it.

The thing that had bothered Chloe the most was whether Cal's family could accept her as he had done. He knew her almost as well as she knew herself, but his family would be complete strangers to her and she to them. Would they be able to see past her flirty, outgoing exterior and see the person within, the person Cal saw? She had never truly cared what people thought about her before, even though their comments outlasted their presence in her life, but she found herself fretting over being accepted by his family.

She already had it made up in her mind that Cal was the man she was going to marry, even if he hadn't realized it yet. She was going to let him slide for a little bit longer before she felt that she would have to resort to dropping subtle hints about marriage in their future. She truly hoped that by going with her to her friend Trish's wedding, the idea would plant itself into Cal's mind and he would start looking towards a shared future with her. She could also use the wedding week as a way to look for clues in his behavior about his thoughts on marriage.

The day for their departure to England had arrived, far quicker than Chloe desired, but it arrived nonetheless. She had been fidgety the whole plane ride over there and nineteen hours is a long time to fidget. Cal had been forced to grab her hands and hold them in his own halfway through the ride as he kept reassuring her that his family would love her as much as he did. She wasn't sure she believed him, but his touch had been soothing to her frantic state of mind and the rest of the plane ride had passed uneventfully.

They had arrived, Cal full of happiness, Chloe full of butterflies. His parents were waiting for them at the gate. Chloe recognized Cal's mother at once, because she shared her son's eyes. Crystal blue. Which made the man standing next to her Cal's father. They seemed like a pleasant couple, but the official introductions were soon to occur and then everything would lay out in the open. Cal's mother's eyes had lit up upon viewing her son and she rushed across the diminishing distance to wrap her arms tightly around him. Cal had looked at Chloe out of the corner of his eye and proceeded to roll his eyes in a dramatic fashion, but Chloe could see that he was happy to be there. Before Cal could even introduce Chloe to his parents, his mother had moved on and without skipping a beat had grabbed Chloe and pulled her into a bear hug. Chloe would never forget the first words Cal's mother ever said to her, "We have heard _so much_ about you and are so happy to finally meet you. You sound like the daughter we never had." Chloe had floated out of the airport on cloud nine. They had accepted her without even knowing her.

**::~*~::**

Chloe shifted in her seat on the patio as she watched Cal running around with his nieces and nephews on the back lawn. There were eight of them and they were giving him a merry chase, trying to steal back a red handkerchief that he was holding high above their heads. Finally, their lack of capture and their growing exhaustion required them to stop, so they huddled together a few yards from where Cal had stopped. Confused, Cal had turned to them and started walking back towards the small group. Chloe laughed aloud from her vantage point as a battle cry issued from the huddled mass of children and as one, they broke apart and swarmed over their startled uncle. They managed to pull him to the ground and completely cover him with their wriggling figures and Chloe started to get worried when Cal didn't immediately reappear. Just as she got to her feet to run to his rescue, one small boy jumped off of the pile and started running away with the red handkerchief held high in his little hand and the others quickly followed after him. Cal was left lying on the green grass, but even from the distance where Chloe stood watching, she could see his body shaking with laughter. She smiled at the sight of him, _her_ Cal, playing with the kids. He would make a great father someday. Even though that day was a ways off, she unconsciously placed her hand tenderly on her stomach. Someday...

**::~*~::**

**A/N: When I first started writing Chloe's story, I had originally intended on focusing on her serial killer fascination, by having her research the 2001 murders of Harper's Island, but, as you can see from above, the story took a completely different turn. I think I like this final copy better, though.**

**It wasn't until after I finished writing this one that the thought came to my mind that this would be the perfect setting for Cal to go ring shopping in. So, for those of you who have read all the chapters so far, you know that in Cal's chapter, he was ring shopping. After writing this one, let me just say that as my imagining went on, I envisioned Cal slipping away one day while they were in England and visiting a jeweler to buy an engagement ring for Chloe. **

**::~*~::**

**Continue reading below ONLY if you want an idea of a humorous alternate ending I was considering including at the end of Chloe's one-shot…**

**I had actually contemplated on having Cal look up just as Chloe tenderly placed her hand over her stomach and paling in absolute horror as he would instantly start thinking she was pregnant. Unfortunately, that would have required changing POVs, and each one-shot is supposed to focus solely on one character (with added characters helping the one-shot along). I also wanted to keep the tone as serious as I could, considering Chloe's thoughts, and Cal playing with his nieces and nephews was the only humor I wanted to keep in there.**


	14. Hunter Jennings

**A/N: Kind of cheesy, but I was having trouble with a good storyline for him. My apologies that this chapter is late in getting posted. Labor Day weekend totally screwed the time up for me.**

**::~*~::**

Hunter calmly sat on the outdoor porch of the restaurant, nursing a cold beer. He typically didn't drink this early in the day, but he seemed to be in a world of trouble and alcohol tended to dull his senses and make everything appear alright, even if it was just a false assurance. He tilted his head back to drain the last few drops before placing the bottle back on the table. He signaled to his waitress to bring him another and she nodded acknowledgment with a bright smile meant only for him. He smiled back and then shook his head slowly when her back was turned. She had been flirting shamelessly with him since he had arrived, and he had actually been basking in that glow. He couldn't foresee any long-term relationship with her, but a couple of nights of fun could be just what the doctor ordered...for him, at least.

He made no secret of watching the way her skirt swayed with the movement of her hips on her way back to him. She made no secret of openly admiring his eyes trained on her, no matter what part of her he was staring at. She placed the beer in front of him and lingered just a bit, before sashaying back into the restaurant. Yeah, he would definitely be hooking up with her for a few nights before moving on to the next one.

He had just taken his first swig of the new bottle when the true object of his desire appeared. The beautiful brunette had just exited the bridal boutique across the street carrying a large clothing bag towards her car. He had no doubt that she was carrying her wedding dress, ready to take it home and make sure it stayed in pristine condition until the wedding. In case the waitress was eyeballing him at that moment, he made sure to move his head back and forth to appear like he was just watching the random pedestrians walking up and down the street, but he made sure to keep his eyes fixed on the brunette.

_Trish Wellington. Of the Seattle Wellingtons, one of the wealthiest families in the city. _He smiled as he took another drink. _Oh, dearest Trish. If you only knew what your father was offering me just to steal you away from that nobody yacht-cleaner, Henry. _His smile turned to an expression of annoyance. What did Henry have that he didn't? Besides the open admiration of the most eligible bachelorette in Seattle? Hunter frowned as he chugged the rest of the bottle down (_Did I really just finish a beer in less than two minutes?_). It was going to take a lot of hard work, but he was very confident that he could bend Trish to his will. All he needed to do was find her weak spot.

The Beamer pulled out of the parking spot and took off up the street. Hunter sat back, strategically plotting how he was going to draw the bride away from her groom and how he was going to spend the money Thomas was going to be paying him. Lost in thought, the appearance of the check at his elbow surprised him. He looked up to try to catch the eye of his flirty waitress, but she had already disappeared back inside. Looking around, he noticed that the restaurant was now quite full. _How long have I been sitting here?_ He went to pick up the check and smiled broadly when he saw the bill. "I'll take care of your bill, if you meet up with me after my shift. 10PM." He pondered his response for a minute before picking up the pen. He only had two weeks before he had to leave for the island. More than enough time to enjoy himself in the meantime.

"I'll take care of your tip at 10PM."


	15. Richard Allen

**A/N: Another cheesy one. I seem to be full of those. Not to worry, though. I think JD's is really good, and will hopefully make up for this slump of bad one-shots. I just wanted to put one more character between Henry and JD in the lineup.**

::~*~::

Richard stood in the lounge swishing the bubbly liquid around the glass he held in his hand, and stared across the room at his wife. She was talking to one of Thomas Wellington's realtors, a young hotshot who thought he had what it took to rise to the top. Richard had perused his file one day and seen nothing remarkable in the way he conducted business. He was just another average employee working for the Wellington name. _Why did Shea coddle these wannabes?_ Whenever her father hosted these routine parties, Shea had that kind nature that required she speak to every one of her father's guests during the course of the evening.

Richard smiled bitterly into his glass. He should have gone into politics. Shea would have been the perfect politician's wife. She had that calm, quiet demeanor, excellent hosting abilities, and great conversational skills, always saying the right things at the right time. Yeah, he should have done something in politics. Richard's gaze shifted to Katherine Wellington, his stepmother-in-law (_How totally awkward that sounded!_), standing next to Thomas Wellington. Nope, it was probably better that he wasn't in politics. He had a few skeletons in his closet; skeletons that would not stand up under even the most casual scrutiny.

Katherine caught him staring at her from across the room and she gave him a concerned look before he shook his head slightly at her and turned away. He almost tripped over his daughter, Madison, who had slipped silently up behind him. She turned her face up towards him and gave him one of her toothy smiles. He smiled back before moving away.

After making a circuit around the room, chatting politely with various individuals, he ended up back where he had previously been standing. His eyes surveyed the room once again, noting the new positions of his family. Katherine was talking happily to a friend of hers who was married to one of Thomas' colleagues while Thomas stood silent next to her, listening to the woman's husband talk about his latest hunting trip to Africa. Even from across the room, the man had a voice that boomed like thunder and Richard could pick up every word. Richard chuckled silently to himself, as he hid his smile behind his glass. Thomas hated hunting, so the conversation must be torturous to him, not to mention the man's voice could certainly grate on the nerves after a very short while. Madison was hanging around a side table, plucking petals from a flower. Richard felt that he should go stop her, but he made no move in that direction. Instead, he tried to locate Shea in order to signal to her what Madison was doing.

Shea was nowhere to be found, but the call for dinner was announced and the group slowly filed into the spacious dining room. _Dinner. Finally!_ Soon after dinner, there would be more socializing and then the guests would start leaving. Richard groaned at the long night ahead of him. These evenings were truly tedious and he wondered why Thomas continued to host them. When Richard took over, these dinners were going to be the first to go. They were so _pointless_!

Richard had made the mistake of asking Thomas why he hosted them one day. Thomas had looked on Richard with disappointment before saying that it was his way of honoring his employees, colleagues, and clients. He had even gone further to express his disappointment with Richard's apparent dislike of the evenings, saying that that was how he, Thomas, had managed to last so long. By treating those he dealt with, with the utmost respect. Richard had wanted to throw up in his mouth, but as his entire future rested in the hands of his father-in-law, Richard had expressed his apologies regarding his attitude towards the dinners. He had said that he understood them better now that he knew the purpose behind Thomas' hosting them. Richard had been dismayed to see that Thomas didn't appear to believe him, but the topic had been dropped and they had moved onto something else.

Richard took his seat near the head of the table, and Shea reappeared from the direction of the kitchen to take her seat next to her husband. _Always the dutiful hostess_, he thought. _Making sure everything goes according to plan._


	16. JD Dunn

**A/N: Sorry that I missed uploading last week; I got sidetracked with other stuff. By request from one of my consistent reviewers (Martine Brooke), here is JD's one-shot. To be completely honest, I can't recall if Henry mentioned exactly how JD attempted suicide (I'm almost positive he didn't), so I took full reign with that tidbit and prepared my own version. I hope you enjoy it!**

**::~*~::**

JD lay on his bed next to Stephanie. They both lay silent, staring up at the black ceiling of his bedroom. Similar thoughts were going down different paths as the seconds ticked slowly by. JD was surprised he felt so calm regarding what was about to happen. He felt strangely...at peace. Perhaps he was meant to do this. He was meant to do this together with Stephanie. They were meant to be together at the end.

Stephanie stirred on the mattress next to him. He looked over at her. She smiled at him, but he could see that the smile didn't reach her eyes. Gazing into her eyes, he saw an emptiness and, while he understood the emptiness, having felt it deeply himself, he was still scared to see it. She was a wonderful person; young and so full of life, but he knew better than anybody that that was just a façade she put on to fool the world. She had really been dying a little bit everyday for years.

In order to avoid the emptiness in her eyes, he let his wander over the rest of her figure. She was very attractive, but hidden behind dark clothing and crazy hair colors, many people didn't spend the time looking close enough to see that beauty. She looked so...perfect...just laying there in her olive green cargo pants and black tank top. Her black-streaked, blonde hair was loose, splayed out on the bedspread, uninhibited by any form of hair gadget. She had a small silver stud in her nose and as she moved slightly to get more comfortable, he could see the sun's rays catching the metal piercing and reflecting tiny beams across the room.

JD had met Steph when he had moved in with his uncle, after his parents had died. He had discovered himself immediately attracted to her, so they had tried dating for a while, but they soon found out that they fit together better as friends, and so they had remained. He had watched her hook up and break up with many guys from school, all the while remaining a steadfast friend. JD had done some dating while in school as well, but he found himself measuring many of the girls he hooked up with against Steph and almost always discovered that they never measured up. JD had long thought about trying to get with Stephanie again, thinking his feelings had possibly changed over the months and maybe hers had too, but one day, just a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue, she had confided in him something he never could have foreseen.

She had been spiraling downward into a black hole of depression and even though JD did his best to try and curb her worsening state of mind, he realized then that things had gotten much worse then he would have thought. She made him swear that he wouldn't repeat what she was about to tell him. When she told him, he had been surprised, but it didn't come as much of a shock to him as it should have. Maybe it was because he understood her and he understood where she was coming from. What should have scared him the most was that he accepted her decision. When she had left, he had thought long and hard about what she was planning. He wondered how her life had gotten so out of control that she had to resort to her present plan of action. It didn't take long for his thoughts to turn on his own life's reflection.

It seemed like only yesterday that his memories had been filled with such light and life. He had been happy once, many years ago. He remembered the happy days that he had spent on Harper's Island with his parents, his brother Henry, and Abby. He hadn't ever been really good friends with Abby, not like his brother, but some part of him felt that of all people, she was the one most likely to have a shot at truly understanding him. He had felt a twinge of regret at his childhood memories. Ever since his parents had died and his life had done a complete one-eighty, he had broken off contact with most of his friends from before the accident, including Abby. But, as his perverse luck would have it, he found a friend, or a kindred spirit even, in Steph. She was very much like him, which had him craving the understanding that she could provide even though they were too much alike in a very bad way. Any therapist would immediately see warning lights concerning these two friends, as theirs was an unhealthy friendship, but he had never seen it that way. She was his best friend. She had been there through it all, listening to him talk about his parents, helping him through the adjustment to his new life, watching with him as his so-called friends melted away. His life was almost as hopeless as hers had become. He realized then that his one ray of light in life was now Steph and if she was going to fade away, well, maybe his life wouldn't be worth living after all.

He had asked her if he could be a part of her plan. He remembered that day well. She had looked so astonished at his request and she had even seemed on the verge of talking him out of it, but she must have seen the determination on his face, the resolution in his eyes, as her unuttered words remained hidden within herself. She had agreed, as long as they made a pact to do it together and to keep it a secret from the world, until it was done. He had readily agreed and so they had started planning. They had jokingly thought of the most extravagant eye-opening ways to accomplish their feat, something that would astound the whole world, but as the chosen day drew closer and closer, they both realized that maybe extravagant and outrageous wasn't for them. They discovered that something quieter and intimate was more to their liking. They had spent months together, living in the shadows of school and home and work life, keeping to themselves. Being center of attention was never their goal. The plan had finally been cemented and they were now laying on his bed, waiting for one last thing.

There was a knock at the door and before JD could answer, his uncle popped his head in the room. "How's it going?" Marty's query was met with silence. JD didn't know what to say, so he shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal way. He was kind of afraid that if he opened his mouth, he might say something that would give their plan away and than Marty would never leave. Marty sighed before continuing, "Well, I've got to run by the office for a few minutes and then maybe I can pick up a pizza on the way back. You interested in pizza for dinner?" He looked at JD and then over at Steph.

"Sure," JD finally replied. "Pizza sounds great." He managed to flash a weak smile at Marty, but it must have had a negative effect, as Marty's expression turned to one of concern.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

Stephanie didn't miss a beat. "Oh, yeah! Everything's fine. We were just discussing some really deep food for thought. Matters of the universe and stuff." She shot a look at JD, making sure her expression was hidden from Marty by her free flowing hair.

"Matters of the universe, eh?" Marty looked amused.

"Yeah," Steph replied. Her eyes drifted up towards the ceiling as she spun her tale. "The purpose of life, our place in the universe. It was actually a topic that somehow came up in our Lit class. I really can't remember how we even got on that topic," she flashed a bright smile at Marty.

JD watched in amazement. Whatever alluring arts Stephanie possessed as a woman, she definitely knew how to make the male sex feel at ease when she wanted to. Marty made some noise of approval before disappearing from the room. Five minutes later, they could hear his car speeding away down the street.

Steph sat on the edge of the bed and pulled a small plastic bottle out of one of her many pants' pockets. Turning to JD, she calmly said, "It's time."


	17. Charlie Mills

**A/N: I am _so_ sorry that I have not been uploading these as often as I had anticipated, but I have a class that is taking up most of my creative thinking energy. I may have to move back the uploading schedule to once every two weeks for a new chapter. Enjoy and review!**

**::~*~::**

Charlie gaped open-mouthed as the door to his office closed behind Maggie's retreating figure. He found it hard to believe the news she had just imparted to him. _Abby. Abby was coming home._

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Maggie had said that Abby _might_ be coming back to the island. She wasn't certain that she would. Charlie sat back in his chair as he tried to make sense of his feelings on this bit of information. He couldn't determine if he was supposed to be ecstatic or panicked. One part of him was overjoyed at the possibility of seeing his only daughter again, but another part, a deeper, more private part of him, was terrified. His guilty conscience threatened to drive away any positive feelings this potential visit elicited. Deep inside of him, he had long buried a dark secret, a secret that often plagued him in the blackest part of the night, but he had made absolutely certain that it never plagued anyone else. It was the _real_ reason he had sent Abby away that night…

Finding that sitting alone in his office was not helping his state of mind, he got to his feet and grabbed his gun. Snapping it into the holster, he headed out the door. His secretary got to her feet to see if he needed anything, but he waved her back down before she even opened her mouth. He needed to get out of there. He needed to be doing something constructive; something that could take his mind off of his unfinished business.

Charlie climbed behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine. He sat for a moment in silence, trying to figure out where to go. He finally decided he would just drive through town, maybe down by the docks, and make sure that everything was running smoothly in the town. It wouldn't hurt anything to just make an appearance.

He put the truck in gear and crawled out of the small parking lot in front of the station. He slowly ambled down the dirt road towards the main street of town. His eyes darted left and right, seeking out even the tiniest bit of mischief.

"Sheriff Mills. Sheriff Mills," the voice sounded harsh coming over the police radio, even for his secretary. He reached over and grabbed the radio off of the dash.

Clicking the button on the side, he replied, "This is Sheriff Mills, over."

"Sir, Nikki just called up from the Cannery. Apparently, Frank's causing trouble again, over."

Charlie shook his head in minor irritation. Frank Halleraan was a local fisherman who tended to make trouble when he had too much to drink. Of course, Shane Pierce could outstrip Frank in the temper category any day of the week. "I'll be right there." He put the radio back and stepped a little more on the gas. He didn't turn on his lights, because there was no need to. Harper's Island was a small place. Even as he was putting the radio back on the dash, the Cannery loomed ahead of him at the end of the road.

**::~*~::**

Charlie fell into bed that night. Even though the day had started very slow with nothing happening, it hadn't ended that way. He felt like he had cursed himself by even thinking about Shane earlier. At that exact moment, Frank and Shane were sharing neighboring cells at the station for the night. Charlie groaned. _When were those _boys_ ever going to grow up?_ Frank was easily old enough to pass as Shane's father, age-wise, but he still acted, especially when drunk, like he was thirty years younger.

His thoughts turned toward his daughter, Abby, and the permanent residence she had taken up in his mind all day. He had decided that he was glad that she might be coming back. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to see how she had grown, how she had prospered, how she was holding up after the horrors of her youth. He just wanted to know that she was fine and safe, and that she was living the life she was always meant to. He had only ever wanted the best for her and he had been glad to take the brunt of her verbal attacks on him that last day…as long as it meant that she was going to be safe and away from the island.

Charlie rolled over and faced the window. The trees just outside flowed gently in the slight breeze that had descended on the island, and he thought that he detected moisture in the air. Charlie was certain it would rain tomorrow. It was always calm and peaceful before the storm.


	18. Danny Brooks

**A/N: My apologies in not getting this up yesterday. Things have been thrown up in the air with my move within the company I work for-I am working in a new department now-and I just couldn't find the time to pop on here to upload the new chapter. Combine that with the fact that I caught a cold last week which decided to do a complete 180 and strike me down for the second time in a week and left me completely weak yesterday...yeah, it wasn't a very good Monday for me. Here is the next chapter. I'm a little iffy about this one. I liked where I was going with the idea, but some of the depth to it I feel is not there. I'm still going to post it and I would love feedback as to what you, my audience, thinks. Enjoy!**

**::~*~::**

Danny sighed in irritation. He was a nice guy. He liked helping out his friends when they needed it, often ignoring his own needs and wants. History had shown that he was the stand-up guy who would volunteer for designated driver duty, no matter how much he felt he needed a beer. He was often the voice of reason whenever his small band of buddies would follow yet another of Sully's little pranks, which usually had a tendency to spiral out of control. He wasn't considered a party-pooper, but he paid attention to where the line was drawn and would warn the others when they started flirting with it.

But, nothing had prepared him for this. He groaned as he leaned forward and buried his face into the palms of his hands. Oh, if he ever ran across Matt again, he was pretty certain he'd be thrown back in jail after he got done beating the daylights out of him. Letting a growl of rage escape his mouth, he flung himself backwards to lay on the cot and stare blankly at the smooth white ceiling. He tried the age-old trick of counting to hundred to repress the fury he felt within as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

It didn't take long for him to start berating himself for his own stupidity. He had felt that something was wrong, but still he had continued on. What an expensive, stupid lesson this was going to turn out to be!

It had started like any other day for him. He had woken up and gone to his job as the manager of a coffee house. It had been a day that progressed much the same as the ones before...until four o'clock in the afternoon. One of his employees had had to track him down to take the phone call. As he reached the phone, for some inexplicable reason, a shiver ran down his spine. The conversation would forever plague his memory.

Matt had called to say that he had found himself in a hard place. He needed a little bit of help and he felt that he could trust Danny. Would Danny meet up with him at 9 that night? Another shiver had crept down his spine. Danny reluctantly agreed.

Nine o'clock came and Danny had gone to the rendezvous spot to meet his friend. Matt had appeared out of the shadows, so silently that he took Danny completely by surprise. The shiver that had trailed down his spine made its presence known once again. Danny had a strong feeling that he should cut and run, but only a sense of loyalty to Matt kept him rooted to the spot. Matt immediately started apologizing as he grabbed Danny into a bear of a hug. Danny was confused by the action, until a score of police officers materialized out of thin air and threw him on the ground while leading Matt away, who gave Danny an apologetic look. Danny had been too stunned to react, so the officers hovering over him had quickly handcuffed him and thrown him into the back of a cop car. Danny had been even more stunned to find an officer pulling a plastic baggie filled with a white powder out of his coat pocket, a baggie that he hadn't even known existed until the cop pulled it out.

It wasn't until he had been sitting isolated in a police interrogation room that the whole story came out. Danny couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Matt had set him up for a drug bust. Danny had never touched drugs in his life (_Well, except for that time in tenth grade behind the stadium bleachers_, he thought morosely). What it came down to was Matt had been buying and dealing for months and when the cops finally caught up to him, he had pleaded a deal, saying he would give up his suppliers in exchange for leniency. But, he didn't want to give up his suppliers as they were a powerful bunch who could "fix" his mistake, in a way that bore no positive outlook for him. So, he struggled to find someone who could take the fall and his thoughts had turned to Danny, a guy who would help a brother out, no questions asked. And so, he made the call. The only thing that worked in Danny's favor was the video surveillance taken of the bust that, after much scrutiny, showed Matt slipping the bag into Danny's coat while he pulled him into the quick hug.

Danny assumed this had meant he was free to go, but the police had other ideas. They still felt he had something to do with the drug ring and so they booked him on charges relating to being an accessory and aiding and other stuff. Danny was too angry at himself, Matt, the cops, the world at large, etc., to really care at the moment. No amount of shouting and threatening would do him any good here, so he figured he would call a lawyer or something in the morning.

"Dude," said a voice from outside his cell. "You _so _owe me!"

**::~*~::**

**Anybody want to venture a guess as to who the "voice from the corridor" is? I know who it is because I had initially made the conversation go farther, but I cut it back and ended it right there. In my next chapter, I may reference this "cameo" and possibly even briefly detail what the deleted conversation would have entailed.**


	19. Trish Wellington

**A/N: My apologies that it has taken me so long to post this next chapter, but school really got in the way (with a 10-page research paper that ended up being 14-pages...and a 100% grade!), not to mention all the stuff I have going on with the holidays. I have had about six chapters all finished; I was just unable to spare any time to revise and edit them before posting, but I have finally finished revising the latest chapter. I have also finally managed to get onto Harper's Globe wiki and, on the offchance that it was a one-of-a-kind admittance, I printed off the last two character bios I needed to finish the last two chapters. Enjoy this latest chapter (which I think is missing a certain something, but I can't figure out what it is)!**

**::~*~::**

Trish smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She was absolutely, positively convinced that no one in the entire world was as happy as she was at that exact moment. She was almost delirious with joy and she surprised herself by starting to giggle like a little school girl. She clamped her hands over her mouth in an effort to shut herself up, but she took one look at her bright eyes and she started all over again. _Trish, get a hold of yourself. Shea and Katherine are going to think you've gone mad. _

Trish finally got herself under control after a few minutes of quietly controlled breathing. She smiled at her reflection once again and was pleased to see that she looked more like a proper young woman than the hysterical child she had been moments before. She just could not get over the fact that in just over two weeks, she would be most happily married to the man of her dreams and they would embark on a life full of bliss and joy together.

She blushed as she thought of Henry. He was her soulmate, her perfect match in every way. He made her laugh like no one else, he made her giddy (as was just witnessed, she thought wryly), he erased all of her fears, just by being there. They had had their ups and downs like any couple, but in the end, they always ended up together. They were just meant to be.

Trish frowned as she thought of another potential suitor from her past. She and Henry had been on a break a few years before and she had hooked up with Hunter Jennings, someone from her own social standing who floated in the same society as herself. Her father had long told her that she would be infinitely more happy with someone whose background was very similar to her own, so she had tried to test his parental wisdom. The aftereffects had blown up in her face. She had realized than that she didn't care that Henry wasn't as wealthy as her family. She didn't care that his family wasn't anywhere near her own on the social ladder. She didn't even care that he used to clean her father's yacht. All she knew was that he made her feel like no one else ever had. She felt safe when his arms were wrapped around her. She felt happy when he whispered sweet words into her ears. Her heart skipped multiple beats whenever he walked into the room.

"Trish, honey? Is everything alright in there?" Shea's voice floated through the door.

"Yeah," she called back. "It'll be just a moment." She tenderly fingered the delicate fabric of the dress she wore. She had tried on hundreds just like it, but none had fit her perfectly the way that this one had. She had been incredibly lucky to find it, since it was the last one in the city and it was exactly her size. When she had pulled the dress on over her figure, for the very first time, she had marveled at how it clung to every curve just right. It had no longer been just _any_ dress, but had just become _the_ dress. She had decided to go on a spur of the moment shopping spree, so none of her girlfriends had been there when she had stumbled across it. It was going to be an absolute surprise to them, but she had decided it might be a good idea to get the opinion of someone, just to make sure that the dress really was meant for her.

Trish smiled coyly at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn't one to toot her own horn, but she looked beautiful, nay, downright gorgeous. Her eyes twinkled in absolute bliss as she smoothed her hands down over the delicate fabric of the most beautiful dress she had ever worn. Her fingers trailed over the bodice and she made a mental note to go shopping for some wedding lingerie, now that she had _the_ dress, when she got to the island. She remembered a cute little boutique from her last trip there. She should be able to find _something_.

A knock came at the door. "Yes?" Trish queried, not taking her eyes from the mirror.

One of the bridal shop employees poked her head around the cracked open door. With amusement evident in her eyes, she whispered conspiratorially, "I think your family is itching to see you now. Are you almost ready?"

Trish rolled her eyes dramatically, before flashing the sales associate a broad grin through the mirror. "Almost," she replied. "Probably another couple of minutes."

"Alright." The associate disappeared, shutting the dressing room door firmly behind her, and Trish could hear faint voices outside as the associate relayed the message to the Wellington women.

Trish remembered when she had first tried the dress on...

_She had been having a rough day and she had felt that an impromptu shopping spree by herself was exactly what the doctor ordered. She had bags filling both hands as she walked down the avenue towards her car, ready to head home. Then she spied the tiny bridal boutique, sitting back, away from the street, nestled snugly between two larger stores. She had paused, thinking. She still hadn't found _the _dress and she most definitely hadn't seen this boutique before. __Dumping her bags into her car, she went back to the little storefront and admired the small window selection before opening the door and stepping inside. _

_The only associate in the store, an elderly woman who had to have been the store owner, had greeted her warmly and then left her free to shop, uninhibited by potentially overwhelming assistance. She had informed Trish to let her know if she needed help with anything. Trish had welcomed the peace and silence the store had to browse the limited selection of dresses on display. Considering the somewhat hidden location of the store, she wasn't at all surprised to see that she was the only client there. _

_After twenty minutes of browsing, she had resigned herself to the fact that the dress was not going to be found on the boutique. She was on her way back towards the door, when a dress hanging on a rack behind the sales counter had caught her attention. With each step that brought her closer, she found herself slowly falling in love with it. Quickly capturing the attention of the associate, she had inquired after the dress. Her heart sank within her when the elderly woman told her that the dress was on hold for another client who had placed a deposit a few months earlier. Trish immediately offered to pay double the price of the dress if the woman would sell it to her. The woman declined but continued on, to Trish's delight, to say that the other bride had not contacted the store in several weeks, so the dress was dangerously close to being sent back on the floor._

_With a twinkle in her eyes, the woman reverently removed the dress from the rack and draped it carefully over her arm. She started walking towards the dressing room at the back of the store, whilst beckoning to Trish to follow. "It wouldn't hurt to try it on," she said secretly, as though fearful of being overheard._

_"Go ahead, dear," the woman said, hanging the dress off of a peg just inside the door of the only dressing room. She backed out and Trish could hear her whistling as she went back towards the front of the store. She gazed at the dress once more, before slowly slipping it off of the hangar. Throughout the entire negotiation with the store owner, Trish had failed to even inquire after the size of the dress. It would have been tragic if she had spent so much time trying to get the dress only to find that it wasn't even her size, especially as it was also mentioned that it was a one of a kind dress. Eyeballing the garment tag hanging around the hangar's neck, Trish was delighted to see that it was marked as her size. She only prayed that too many alterations hadn't already been done. _

_Stripping down, she stepped into the dress and slid it up over her body. After struggling for several moments, she finally got the zipper zipped up, all the while reassuring herself that that was what bridesmaids were for. Finally she stood, resplendent in white, with her back facing the three way mirror. Her heart was racing frantically within her chest. _The moment of truth._ She could barely bring herself to look at her reflection, but she knew she couldn't stand in suspense forever. Taking a deep breath, she spun around. _

_She almost shrieked in ecstasy. It was _the one! _It fit so perfectly, clinging to every curve in all the right places! Trish could barely contain her excitement. She almost didn't want to take it off. She stood silently in front of the mirror, admiring the dress from every possible angle. She felt like such a fairytale princess in the dress. It would completely fit her fairytale wedding. She had to find some way to get this dress. She crossed her fingers and prayed with all her might that the dress could be hers, somehow. _

Trish smiled in remembrance of that day. Everything had been put in order for the wedding, but she had had the worst luck in finding her wedding dress. Then, fate had brought her to the door of that bridal shop. Fate had also seen the dress into her possession, two weeks after she had first tried it on. Now it was the week before her wedding and she had come to pick it up to take it home. She had brought her stepmother, sister and niece with her to finally see the dress that she had been raving about for several weeks.

Giving herself one last glance, she opened the door and stepped out to gasps of surprise and exclamations of beauty.


	20. Marty Dunn

**A/N: So sorry for the delay...again. My laptop is now on the fritz. Even though I've made it a habit of keeping my stories in no less than three locations (one folder on my portable hard drive and two locations on two different travel drives), it's still been crazy trying to get my laptop to work long enough to upload the next chapter. Finally I decided to just sneak onto my work computer during a slow period to upload the next chapter, so here it is. It's pretty vague, but considering the character, I'm hoping the vague-ness works in my favor...or rather, _his _favor. **

**One last thing-I didn't realize until after I read a couple of the recent reviews (Rebecca and Martine), that I completely forgot to tie up the loose end with Danny's oneshot. I left the mysterious visitor open for interpretation, just to see what people came up with, and I liked hearing the feedback and the thoughts on it. When I wrote Danny's oneshot, I had the scene progressing much further, but finally decided to cut it back to where it ended up being. It was supposed to be Henry and his idea of "owing him" for bailing Danny out was to be a groomsman in the wedding.**

**::~*~::**

He reclined in the uncomfortable chair, trying in vain to find a comfortable position...and failing miserably. He was also attempting to affect an indifferent façade to his companions, but that infernal chair was making it nigh impossible. Finally he just gave up. The sooner the business was completed, the sooner he could escape the confines of the spacious, but claustrophobic, conference room. He had never liked this room. Things had happened here that ruined men like him. In fact, he himself had done the ruining on the rare occasion.

Marty had only been listening half-attentively to the conversation of his associates. While he should have been concerned with what they were talking of, as it concerned one of his jobs, he couldn't get himself involved in it beyond the occasional head nod or grunt of approval. He was presently invested in his own thoughts. He was thinking of his nephew's upcoming wedding. He was getting married to a wealthy young woman who was quite the knockout. Marty had never met her, but he had seen the engagement photos that had accompanied the announcement and the invitation. She was stunning and perfectly suited (appearance-wise) to his nephew. _Oh, to be young again! _He couldn't wait to meet her. Especially in light of his new commission...

The clearing of a throat brought Marty back to his meeting. His colleagues were staring at him. Marty's boss, at the head of the table, slowly nodded his head once and Marty replied in the same manner. He got up, relieved to finally be rid of the chair. Leaving the conference room behind, he hurried to the nearest exit of the building which happened to lead onto a balcony. Once outside, he collapsed on one of the deck chairs that were set up and withdrew a cigarette from his pocket. Lighting it, he sat back and gazed out upon the sleeping city spread across the flat plains.

The wedding week started one week from the present day and he had much to prepare for. In addition to putting together the essentials for his job, he also had to assemble some needed items for the wedding party. It would not do to show up lacking a wedding gift for the happy couple. Marty had to admit that he was proud of Henry...and to a lesser degree, JD. When the boys had come to live with him after their parents' fatal car accident, Marty had worried about their ability to cope with the loss of both parents and his ability to cope with caring for two practically adult boys. Henry had already been living relatively independently for a few years as he had been attending college and living on-campus when the accident occurred. He had worked on the college newspaper as an editor, something that helped his career take off when he graduated from Harvard Business School and launched his own company. JD, on the other hand, had been sixteen at the time, making him a minor and fully dependent on Marty. Something had changed in him after his parents died. He had been a smart, curious and mildly troublesome teenage boy and after—well, he had started into a downward spiral of depression, drugs and suicidal tendencies. It had escalated over the years to the brink of attempted suicide last year and Marty had finally pushed JD into a help center. He hadn't known anything about raising kids, but he had always thought that he had made a valiant effort these last few years.

Marty was interrupted by the sound of the balcony door opening behind him. Turning in his seat, he watched his boss' secretary walk along the railing towards him. A small, manila envelope she carried in her hand was held out towards him. Taking it, he watched as she silently walked back to disappear behind the door. Marty had always found her to be exquisite looking, especially with her exotic Latin beauty. But, she was the boss' secretary and in his line of work, that meant off limits. Quickly peeking inside, he saw what he needed to see and now he was free to leave, not due to return until after the wedding.

**::~*~::**

**A/N: Before anyone asks, I do not recall what the "commission" was that Marty was referring to. I do, however, know that I wasn't ever going to elaborate on it in the story, so its passing mention was exactly what it was supposed to be. I do also remember that it had something to do with Thomas Wellington and his business, but beyond that, all information has eluded me.**

**AND, just an interesting tidbit about Marty. I wasn't entirely sure what Marty did for a living, aside from something to do with "sales," so on this website that I am a member of, I posted an opinion poll for Harper's Island fans to voice their thoughts on whether Marty's career was in _legal sales_ or _illegal sales_. Most fans thought he was in illegal sales. I decided to keep the legality of Marty's business out of my story here, and focused on keep it vague so that the reader can decide for him/herself what Marty is doing. **


	21. Christopher Sully Sullivan

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I have been stuck in CSI:NY heaven since New Year's day; watching episodes in my self-styled marathon and reading fanfics like never before. I kind of forgot about this story until I got a review from Rebecca recently. Couple that with the fact that my laptop has recently lost the ability to connect to the Internet... I can't wait for my tax return. It's getting blown on a new laptop. **

**Anyways, I'm a little hesitant to upload this particular chapter, because I feel like something is off. Unfortunately, after reading and re-reading this one-shot since I finished it back in August, I can't figure out what is off. So, this chapter, _more so_ than any other chapter thus far, I would really like feedback on. **

**One last thing-I make it a point to respond to ALL of my reviews, but I've been behind the last two months or so, so if you reviewed this story in the last two months, I will definitely reply to your review; I'm just way behind at the moment.**

**::~*~::**

Sully rolled over in his bed and stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. His mind was miles away, busily engaged in the upcoming activities associated with a wedding. It wasn't just any wedding, though. It was the wedding of his best friend, Henry Dunn, to the wealthy Trish Wellington. And Sully wasn't just any guest; he was the best man! Already a myriad of fun activities occupied his waking thoughts as he gave serious consideration to how he could make Henry's last days as a bachelor the best days of his life.

A quiet moan issued from his side and his eyes left their place on the ceiling and drifted over to his sleeping companion. He felt a moment's panic when he could not remember the brunette's name and he vaguely wondered how much he had drunk the night before. He was quite relieved when her name, Heather, finally came to his mind just before she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. Her smile quickly faded when she noticed the lack of interest in his own eyes. With a huff, she wrapped the sheets around her body and escaped to the bathroom, picking up her clothing strewn all over the floor and ending with a slammed door. He jumped at the slam, but quickly settled back onto the bed. It's not that he didn't like her; she just wasn't his type. While alcohol had consumed his faculties the night before, he was pretty certain that he hadn't promised anything more than one night.

The bathroom door opened and Heather came out, took one more look at him, and then fled his small apartment. He felt a small bit of remorse at the way he had handled the situation, or lack thereof, but it was quickly pushed aside. He had other things to think about. He closed his eyes to the bright sunlight as thoughts of another brunette filled his mind's eye.

_Her green eyes sparkled like emerald jewels and her ruby-red lips curved upward in a joyful smile, before parting in laughter at his humorous story. He had his arms around her, providing her with a safe haven for the time being, a position that he had craved too often before and a position that he seemed to take comfort in at that moment. How did this amazingly stunning woman come to be enveloped in his arms?_ He remembered that day as if it had just happened yesterday, and not years ago.

_Sully had gone over to Trish's apartment to hang out with Trish and Henry. As he had been heading up the steps to the apartment, Henry had come flying down the stairs with such a murderous look on his face, that Sully had felt genuinely terrified of his best friend. Henry had not spared a glance towards Sully as he jumped in his car and sped off into the night. Sully had looked from the departing car below to Trish's apartment above him. Worried about her, he had taken the steps two (and sometimes three) at a time as he raced upwards. Slipping quietly into her apartment, he was dismayed to see her sitting on the floor, with her head buried on her folded arms on her couch. She hadn't even noticed his arrival, so she jumped quite high when he had put a hand on her shaking shoulder. Finally, her wet, mascara-streaked eyes focused on Sully's face and she practically fell into his open arms as she cried even more._

_It had taken some time, but he finally got the story out of her. She and Henry had had another fight, but Trish had admitted that she had never seen Henry so angry before. She had only been looking out for his well-being, what with several unsolved murders having taken place near the Seattle docks in recent weeks. He had an office near the docks and since the murders started, Trish had constantly pleaded with him to move locations, to somewhere safer. He finally snapped that evening, after she started up again with the revelation of another murder, and when the harshly flung words had ceased, he had left her alone, while she begged him not to go._

_Sully's blood had started to boil when he heard her account of things, until he realized who they were talking about. Henry was one of the most mild-mannered, fun-loving people he knew, but he also knew that, as a human being, he was subject to explosions of temper like anyone else. Sully had been on the wrong end of that temper once before and it wasn't an experience he was in a hurry to duplicate, but he also knew from experience that Henry didn't lose his temper very often. Sully had a feeling that something else was going on with Henry and his argument with Trish had just been the icing on top._

_Not too much more time went by before he had distracted Trish with comical stories of the frat house that he and Henry had lived in during their last two years of college with some of their buddies. The last story had her laughing so hard that she collapsed backwards against the couch. Then Sully did one of the stupidest things he'd ever done. He leaned over to kiss Trish, but she was not diverted enough to allow it, as she pushed him away. When he looked in her face again, he was surprised to see an expression that caused his stomach to tighten in...fear? She was smiling and her eyes were glistening, but something was off about the details of her expression. There was almost a malicious look about her face. He was about ready to ask her what it was, when a sharp pain exploded across his back. He heard a sinister laugh behind him and when he looked in the mirror hanging on the wall behind Trish's couch, he was dismayed to see Henry standing behind him, a slight spatter of blood across his face. Sully's mouth formed an "O," of astonishment as Henry smiled in a morbid fashion._

_"Trying to screw Trish behind my back, you back-stabbing so-called friend of mine. Well, two can play at that..." Henry made to twist the handle of the blade that was buried in Sully's back._ Right then, Sully sat bolt upright in bed. Whipping his eyes around the room, his rapidly beating heart quickly settled within his chest as he saw that he was alone and in his own apartment. He heaved a sigh of relief as he collapsed back on his pillow, his chest still rising and falling in quick succession, a cold sweat pouring down his face. He had no idea what had caused his sweet dream to go so awry, but he had a feeling that his many passes at Trish over the years wouldn't pass undetected by Henry. He should probably come clean to him before the wedding and say it was just his crazy nature cultivated during his frat days. They had been friends since high school. What was the worst that Henry could possibly do to him?

**::~*~::**

**A/N: Again, I am not really satisfied with this one, and since Sully seems to be most people's favorite character, I feel I should get prepared for a thrashing from reviewers. For the record, I am not a Sully/Trish shipper, though, in light of the revelations that were made, I suppose any choice for Trish is better than Henry. **

**There are only two more finished chapters after this one (Shea and Shane). I haven't yet finished Malcolm's or Lucy's, and I think I have to rewatch the series to get inspiration for those two remaining chapters. When I started this series of oneshots, I had in mind to possibly include Cole and Wakefield as well, but since it's become increasingly difficult for me to keep up with the 25 I started with, I don't know if I'll go with the extra two. Only time and inspiration will tell. **


	22. Shane Pierce

**A/N: It's official! I really need to write a Nikki/Shane fiery romance story, because once again, my desire to have those two hook up may have influenced my one-shot here. This was written independent of any other story, but in retrospect, I suppose it could be considered a sequel to Nikki's one-shot (though that was not my intention when I wrote it). **

**So, this one kind of follows the style I used for Nikki's oneshot. Even though I professed to writing each oneshot that focuses solely on each character, I slipped up a couple of times and this is one of those times. It will be from Shane's viewpoint, but Nikki does feature prominently. **

**::~*~::**

Shane stumbled into his rundown house in the early morning hours. The sun wasn't due up for another three hours at least, but he was too tired, drunk and pissed off to bother with turning on a light. He instantly regretted that decision when his knee made contact with the coffee table. A whole litany of curse words just flew out of his mouth as he fell back to land uncomfortably, but safely, on his sunken couch. He lay there, haphazardly, for several moments, waiting for the pain subside.

"Who does she think she is?" he muttered angrily. He lay there in dejected silence before a wave of fury built up inside of him. He leapt to his feet. _Who _did_ she think she was? _He honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had made him this angry. As he turned around to make his way to his fridge to grab another beer, he lashed out against the wall. The force with which his fist connected with the wall tore straight through the plaster and into the solid wooden frame beyond.

He gasped in pain as he extracted his hand from the wall. Even in the dim light from the moon outside, he could see several splinters stuck in his knuckles as well as a few gashes that were bleeding pretty heavily. As if that wasn't bad enough, a knock came at his door.

"Who is it?" he barked out. He was in no mood to be seeing anyone right now.

Instead of an answering reply, his door flew open, irritating him to no end. He turned around to start shouting at whoever had the audacity to just walk into his place when he stopped stone-cold.

"_What_ is the matter with you, Shane?" Nikki hollered, slamming the door shut behind her. Shane pressed his one good hand against his forehead in order to stall the migraine he could feel coming.

After letting out a growl of rage, he replied, irritation barely held in check, "Can we do this in the morning?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nikki stiffen up. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, before she started in on him again. "Excuse me? For your information, 2AM fully qualifies as 'the morning' and, no, I will not come back later. We're gonna do this right now. I don't know what your problem is, Shane, but you are not using my bar to harass Kelly around anymore. In fact, if I so much as see one more bruise on her, whether you put it there or not, I'll have Charlie throw you in jail. This ends right now." Shane had stood absolutely still throughout the whole tirade, and now breathed a sigh of relief at Nikki's conclusion. He knew she was done (at least until he opened his big mouth again) because he could hear her heavy breathing as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

"Fine," he replied quietly. He turned his head just so, in order to better see her. Her mouth opened and she appeared on the verge of saying something, when she closed it again. Finally, she just replied sarcastically, "What? No fight?"

He was about ready to ask her to leave, in the politest way he could muster, when she cut off the words before they could even leave his lips. "Shane, what did you do?" Her tone of voice made the question come out as an accusation, which it very well could have been. He was momentarily stunned by the concern that tinged her words. He looked down at the blood that was dripping onto the floor. He had been so focused on trying to get her to leave that he had temporarily forgotten about his injury.

"Nikki, just go," he asked, but she ignored him. She dropped her bag onto the floor by the door and flipped on the lights. He clamped his eyes shut at the sudden burst of light that flooded the room and stabbed through his eyes to hit his brain head-on. He winced in pain as she took his hand in hers and started examining it. When he felt well enough to open his eyes without having the urge to vomit, he did so. Nikki was peering closely at his hand before surrendering it back to him. Without saying a word, she headed off to his bathroom. He watched her go, wondering what she was doing. Why on earth would she care about his injuries after the verbal thrashing she had just given him? She should have just left him to his own devices.

The continual dripping of his blood on the floor reminded him that he should wrap it up before it made a bigger mess than it already had. He had just grabbed one of his work shirts off of the floor when Nikki reappeared with various medical items, shouting for him to stop. "What are you trying to do? You're going to get an infection if you use that." He could hear the disgust in her voice when she referred to his dirty shirt as _that_. He looked back down at the shirt he held in his hand and then over at all the stuff she dumped on the kitchen table. She pulled him over to where the kitchen light was better in illuminating his wound and then she produced tweezers from the bundle she had dumped on the table. She started pulling the splinters in his hand out.

"I don't see why you're so concerned over my health. I'm sure you wouldn't care if I lost a hand, or an arm." As if retaliation for his comment, she savagely yanked a splinter from his knuckle. "Ow!" he shouted. He was convinced that after this encounter, Nikki was never going to let him live it down. He couldn't even understand why this little injury was causing him so much difficulty when he knew that he received much worse just working at the docks.

"You know, even though you're the biggest jerk I've ever had the misfortune of knowing, I still consider you a friend—most of the time."

Sarcastically, he replied, "I'm touched." Another yank of a splinter and another growl of pain.

"Where'd you find all of this stuff? Is this in my bathroom?"

"You have a first aid kit buried in the cabinet under your sink. I'm sure half the stuff inside of it is no good anymore, but I can guarantee that it's a lot better than the dirty shirt you were trying to poison your blood with."

"Really?' He had no idea where it had come from, but he was somewhat grateful that she had found it. Otherwise, his he-man caveman-style patch up might have killed him...if she was to be believed.

It took several moments but Nikki finally extracted most of the splinters from his knuckles. The ones that she couldn't get at, she said could still be extracted but he had to soak his hand in warm water for a few minutes. Getting that all set up, there was nothing to do but wait while his hand soaked. They eyed each other warily across the table before Nikki started rummaging through the supplies she had brought out of the bathroom. She lay aside some towels, a roll of gauze padding, a couple of large gauze pads, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and the freshly sanitized tweezers. Shane spent this whole time just watching her.

"You seem to really know what you're doing." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Nikki just nodded as she avoided his eyes. Shane hadn't really noticed that she was purposefully looking away from him until just then and he soon began to wonder why. _She's embarrassed about the way she yelled at me earlier._

"Well, when you work in a bar like I do, you have to break up fights all the time and occasionally patch the combatants back up. It comes with the territory, I guess. I've used my nursing skills on Kelly more than once." She finally looked up at him at the last statement, not even casually, but she met his eyes with a hard stare. Shane immediately went to work setting up a mental blockade. He refused to let Nikki play the guilt trip card on him. He turned his head to stare intently at the wall, but he didn't miss Nikki's faint sigh of disappointment. She had already seen way too much of his weak side tonight. He needed to show her that nothing was going to be any different when the sun came up. He was going to go back to his bad boy persona in the morning and she was going to go back to hating his guts. That's just how their world worked. That's how it was always supposed to be.


	23. Malcolm Ross

**A/N: YES! The first of my two limbo one-shots is DONE! After this I only have Shea (complete) and Lucy (incomplete) left to post. Hopefully I'll be inspired with a story for Lucy tomorrow. I still haven't decided whether I will continue with Cole and Wakefield, but I'll figure it out once I'm done with Lucy's. I also want to give a shout-out to Rebecca who has been such an awesome reviewer! I'm not sure if you have an FF account, since I never get a reply link with my review alerts, but I wanted to thank you for all the reviews you've given on the "Once Upon a Life" series. I usually respond to all of my reviews (albeit sometimes a bit late, as Martine will testify), but it doesn't work quite as well if the reviewer is not a member of FF. Thanks again! **

**Enjoy!**

**::~*~::**

Malcolm wiped his hand across his face, ridding it of the sweat that coated it. His long hair, that normally hung loosely down to his chin, was starting to plaster against both sides of his face. His hands clenched and unclenched at his side as he rocked back and forth, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again. He had never felt this panic-stricken in his life.

Two years ago, he had gotten drunk as a skunk after being fired from his job as a computer technician. Sully, Henry and Danny had come over in an attempt to make him feel better (Booth having to work) and also to help polish of the case he had bought on the way home. They had sat around until the wee hours of the morning, complaining about their respective jobs and how white-collar America was out to get them. As the hours crept past, the most mundane things became funnier and funnier.

He remembered how it all started. A simple comment. He had just finished one beer among many and as he had been staring into the depths of the glass bottle, the words had slipped from his mouth. "You know this beer wasn't even that great. I'm sure I could do it _so_ much better."

The other guys, reliable as they were for such things, immediately started egging him on, enumerating all the ways that Malcolm could better mankind with excellent beer. By the time the guys had passed out on his floor, Malcolm had puffed up quite proudly, the complete opposite of where he had been just hours before. Maybe getting fired was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

In the throes of reflection, Malcolm had started pacing the small lobby area. He felt his face redden in embarrassment as he noticed the receptionist had stopped typing and was watching him with an eyebrow raised.

"Nerves," he replied breathlessly. She nodded once and then went back to typing, occasionally peering at him out of the corner of her eye, probably trying to gauge his potential for being a mass murderer or something. He turned away from her, afraid that he was honestly going to have a panic attack if he didn't calm himself down soon.

Malcolm had seized on the opportunity to start his own brewery that next morning. For almost two years, he had made, tested, tweaked, and retested his product until he got it to a perfect balance and flavor. Sully had been genuinely impressed when Malcolm had given him a sample of the finished product. Coming from Sully, Malcolm had taken his reaction as high praise.

Now all Malcolm needed was financial backing. Which brought him to his present predicament. It had taken him two months of promoting his product, christened _Sacred Turtle_, before he had finally landed a meeting with the head of a local brewery. Henry had spent all the previous night coaching him on the right things to say and how to pitch his product. Malcolm had felt quite confident when he had left his apartment that morning. That is, until he walked through the door to the brewery office. He was pretty sure his confidence had held onto the door frame and refused to enter the building.

This was the first meeting he had and he prayed it would be the last. He didn't want to have to repeat this whole excruciating ordeal again. Grabbing a tissue out of the box on a side table, he dabbed furiously at his forehead. He thanked the heavens that Henry had known him well enough to chuck a stick of antiperspirant at his head before leaving the night before. It was bad enough that he was sweating enough to fill a bathtub, but he was grateful that he wasn't going to stink the place up as well.

"Mr. Ross?" He whipped around in mid-dab. The receptionist was speaking to him. "Mr. Turner will see you now." She gestured to a door off to her right.

He quickly dried his face and tossed the tissue into the trash. Scooping his portfolio off of the side table he clutched it in his hand, as if holding on for dear life. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched through the door, a soldier off to do battle.


	24. Shea Allen

**A/N: Here is the last one-shot that I have completed. After this I only have Lucy to post, but I am still stuck with her story. I'll figure something out...**

**Shea's one-shot was one of the most difficult ones I had to write and in the end, I had to (potentially) deter from staying true to the character. It's only in the eye of the beholder; though, for a little stretch of the imagination, can make this one-shot true to her character from the show. For the longest time, all I had to go on was the only portion of her character I was sure of—her maternal nature when it came to Madison. I was absolutely adamant that my one-shot would not focus on this character trait, because I felt it would be too expected for her, so I decided to take a different approach. In Richard's one-shot, I made mention of Shea having the potential to be a politician's wife. I carried that potential over to this one-shot. One of the stereotypical traits of a politician's spouse is the almost mandatory mask that is expected to be worn in full view of the public eye when out in society. Of course, behind closed doors, the mask tends to fall away...**

**::~*~::**

Shea rolled over onto her side and lay facing the window. Anyone who happened upon her then would be surprised to see the twin trails of moisture streaking across her face, glistening in the moonlight, but she didn't care. It was the middle of the night and the only person who would have the best chance of seeing her in this condition was due home hours ago. In fact, it was for him that her tears fell.

She brushed her free hand over her face and tried to wipe the tears away, but the simple motion only made her cry even more. She buried her face into her pillow, in an effort to muffle the sound. _How had it come to this_?

They had argued earlier in the afternoon. Not that they had never argued before. Every marriage had its little squabbles, but the couple usually reconciled and all was as it had been before. Not this time. It was only an issue of the most minor concern, something Shea would have been happy to drop the subject of when it started spiraling out of control, but Richard refused. He blew the entire thing out of proportion, and, for the first time ever, raised his voice to a veritable shout. Shea had been stunned into silence. She immediately had tried to apologize for whatever she had said that had set him off, even though she had no idea what it was, but he had stormed out of the house and off to the office. Shea had offered a silent prayer of gratitude that Madison had not been there to witness that, before turning her thoughts back to the issue. It should not have happened like that. If Shea had anticipated for one moment that bringing up the subject of Trish and Henry's wedding gift would have elicited a response like that, she would have kept her mouth shut.

Madison had come home from school a couple of hours after the confrontation. By that time, Shea had passed off the afternoon's explosion as a side-effect of a big project that Richard was working on for her father. Shea had considered asking her father to assign someone from the office to help Richard with the project, so that he wouldn't be under so much stress, but she had quickly pushed the thought from her mind. Richard would definitely have a reason to be angry with her then. She didn't understand why he wanted to look perfect in the eyes of her father, lacking the weakness that would cripple lesser men, but so he did. Shea had also dismissed the thought on the basis that they were leaving for the Dunn/Wellington island wedding in two days and Richard would have an entire week to relax and spend time with the family.

By the time Madison came home, Shea had placed the incident in the back of her mind and devoted herself to mothering her daughter. It wasn't until after Madison had gone to bed and Shea was laying in the darkness of her own room that the argument had come to the forefront of her mind again. Something felt really off about what had happened and Shea tried hard to place her finger on it. The more she thought about it though, the more the whole thing depressed her spirits, until she finally broke down and started crying.

She wouldn't confront him. Not until after the wedding. He was working far too many hours at the office and his relationship with both her and Madison had started suffering severely. Shea hadn't realized how much until today. A week wasn't going to be enough, but it would be a good start. The laid-back week in front of them would work its magic on him and when he was more himself, Shea would talk with him. She would try to make him see what his recently adopted workaholic manner was doing to his family. Shea knew that Richard loved her and Madison, and she believed with all of her heart that he would change his ways once he saw the damage he was causing. _These new habits are quite recent, only a matter of months old, so it shouldn't be a problem to change them before he is set in them. _

Shea finally drifted off to sleep with this plan worked out in her mind. In just two weeks, everything would be as it was before.


	25. Lucy Daramour

**A/N: I don't know if anyone else got this impression, but I felt that Lucy was actually quite superficial during all two episodes that she was in on the show. I tried to keep that image, but give her some hidden intelligence (I think I failed miserably). This one-shot actually talks about two specific events in her life prior to the wedding, so I hope it doesn't get too confusing. It kind of beat its own path in regards to the expectations I laid out for these one-shots in the first chapter, but I really liked this one in the end. It came out nice. Here it is—the last one-shot!**

**::~*~::**

Lucy closed the door of her red convertible and pulled off the scarf that had kept her blonde hair out of her face on the drive up. Shaking it loose, she pulled a few strands off to the side and clipped them in place, before grabbing her hot pink cell phone off of the sun visor. Checking the address she was standing in front of against the information Ryan had texted her, she determined she was in the right place and slid the phone into her purse. Pulling out a tube of lipstick, she quickly touched up in the side view mirror, before turning on her heels and striding to the door.

When Ryan had called her three days ago and tantalized her with a surprise he was arranging for her, she had been delighted, to say the least. Over the course of the last three days, she had spent considerable time wondering what he could possibly be surprising her with. She had also tried tricking him into spilling the beans, but, for once in his life, he successfully managed to keep something from her.

She had to admit that she had never felt this way about any other guy before. All through high school and even the beginning of college, she had bounced around from guy to guy like a pinball machine, looking for the next best thing. She first met Ryan when they were both juniors at Washington State University. They had met in a psychology class and he hadn't been in the same class with her for fifteen minutes before he passed her off as the stereotypical beauty queen whose parents were footing her college bill and the only reason she was in the class was because it fulfilled a requirement and not from any real desire to be there. Lucy had put up with that label from everyone else around her, but, for whatever reason, it had really bothered her that he thought of her like that, especially since she _wanted _to be in the class. She had worked her butt off all semester long and she had tasted the sweet flavor of success at the end of the semester.

A few weeks into the class, he had asked her out. She had flat out refused him. The next Monday rolled around and he asked again, and again she refused. This soon became a regular ritual between them every Monday morning as they arrived to class. It wasn't until the end of the semester had rolled around that Lucy had finally accepted a date with Ryan—after the grades were posted and she was announced as the top student of the class. They had been together ever since.

Lucy smiled as she thought over the start of their relationship. If you had told her at the start of their relationship that she would still be with him years later, she probably would have laughed, but here she was. She quickened her pace and soon reached the doorstep and rang the bell. It was much too hot to be standing around outside. The house was situated overlooking the Pacific Ocean, so there was the occasional cool breeze blowing across the endless expanse of water, but nothing to really compete with the heat. At least when she had been in her car, she had the wind whipping past her, keeping her cool.

Lucy checked the time on her phone. She had exactly two hours before she was due to meet up with Trish. Trish had called her that morning and invited her out to lunch, with the intention of talking to her about something to do with Henry. Lucy swore that if Henry didn't pop the question soon, she would encourage Trish to sow her oats elsewhere. Lucy had to admit that she thought Trish and Henry were perfect together, but they had so many explosive moments, that Lucy was convinced they either needed to end it permanently or make it last forever. Perhaps if Henry thought he was going to lose Trish, he might be forced to act in order to keep her. Lucy smiled at the thought and then it quickly turned to a frown. Who was she to point fingers at Trish and Henry? She had been with Ryan almost as long and he definitely wasn't showing any sign of proposing.

Her heart suddenly jumped up into her throat as she glanced nervously at the door, footsteps approaching on the other side. Looking down at herself, she frantically thought, _I _so_ did not pick out the right outfit for this moment!_ The door opened and Ryan stood there, looking as yummy as he ever did to her. She stood rooted to the spot, the lack of movement having nothing to do with the wait for an invite in. She quickly studied him, trying to gauge his thoughts, trying to determine if she was jumping to conclusions. He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek while slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her through the door and into the cool interior.

"I almost thought you got lost," he replied, steering her further into the house towards the kitchen where a pitcher of ice, cold water was waiting. He poured her a glass and held it out, but she didn't touch it. Her stomach was doing cartwheels inside, and she was sure she would be sick if she tried to consume anything. "Is everything alright? You look really pale."

"What's this about, Ryan? Why am I here?" She almost clamped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but it definitely came out that way. "I'm sorry. I've been trying to figure out what this surprise could possibly be and this wild thought just hit me a few minutes ago."

"It's nothing to get all flustered over, I can assure you. It's not like I was going to propose." She gasped. "Oh, no. Is that what you thought this was about?"

She couldn't figure out whether the news was a relief or a disappointment. Not trusting her voice, she merely nodded. He quickly made his way over to her and wrapped her in a gentle embrace. _I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry._ The words echoed over and over in her mind like a mystical chant. Pulling back, he looked down at her.

"Can I let you in on a secret?" She nodded again. "I _am_ going to ask you to spend the rest of my life with me." Her eyes immediately locked with his in surprise. He forced a small laugh before continuing, "But, it's going to be a heck of a lot more romantic than at my friend's house. As nice as it is, I can do so much better for such a special moment." She laughed, all the anxiety slowly draining from her. Somewhere in the back of the house, she heard a dog bark.

Even though it was obvious that both had heard it, she replied in an effort to break the tension, "Is that a dog I heard?" He flashed her a wide smile and beckoned her to follow him. Following after him, Lucy had to fight to control her emotions. She went from fretting over an impending proposal, to realizing it was all in her head (and heart), to securing a promise that it was coming. It was just a huge emotional roller coaster and she thought that seeing Ryan's friend's dog was just what she needed to calm down. She had always loved dogs, but the death of her childhood canine friend while she was in high school had left a hurt too deep to be filled casually by another dog and so she had grieved for her four-footed friend and sworn off ever finding another dog that she could love as much. It was during her last year of college that she had realized the grieving process had passed and she found herself yearning for the companionship only a furry friend could give, but things had been too crazy with finishing college and starting her career that she knew she couldn't devote the time she needed to caring for another dog, so she filed away the desire until after her life slowed down a notch or two.

Lucy followed Ryan towards the back of the house, just as a young man stepped out of a room and closed the door behind him. Looking up, he smiled at the two of them and Lucy had to admit that he was very good-looking, though he couldn't hold a candle to _her_ Ryan. Her smile widened just a little bit more when she thought that, someday, he really would be hers and she would be his in every way possible.

"Drake, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is my friend Drake." She took his hand when he offered it to her, but instead of shaking it, he pressed his lips to the top of it. "That's the first, last and only time you kiss my girlfriend, buddy." Lucy knew that it was said in jest, but she also knew that Ryan would defend her in a heartbeat, if necessary. Pulling her hand back, she ran her fingers through her hair.

Smiling from Ryan to Drake, she sweetly asked, "I heard your dog bark when we were in the kitchen. I really love dogs, so if you don't mind, I'd love to meet him."

"She's right through there, and you are welcome to stay as long as you want." Turning to Ryan, he said, "I'm going to go get something to drink, so I'll be back in a few." He continued down the hall and turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Ryan motioned Lucy towards the door. "After you."

Lucy opened the door and stepped through, Ryan right behind her. At first glance around the sparsely decorated room, Lucy didn't see a dog, and her first thought was that Drake had pointed them to the wrong room. It did look like a dog lived in there, though, as there were toys and pet paraphernalia all over the room—just no dog. She was about ready to ask Ryan to check with Drake again, when movement from a box in the corner caught her attention. It was quickly followed by a pitiful yipping that would have caused any heart to break. Lucy hurried over and found the most adorable ball of white fluff running round and round the box, searching for an escape from the predicament she found herself in. Lucy reached down and picked her up, cradling her in her arms.

Looking up at Ryan, her eyes shining, she cooed, "She's so adorable! I think I'm falling in love!"

"Wait a second! You better not be telling me that I'm losing your heart to a living cotton ball."

Despite the fact that it was clearly an insult to the dog, Lucy had to smile at his choice of description. "Just a piece of my heart that is reserved for the canine kind and was never yours to begin with." She batted her eyes at him.

"As much as that excuse doesn't console my breaking heart, I'll accept it. Drake said we could stay as long as we wanted, so why don't you get to know her a little better."

Lucy did just that. She put the dog, whose collar named her Gigi, on the floor and, kneeling down herself, she proceeded to scratch the dog's belly and play tug of war with a small piece of rope with her. Lucy lost track of the time and never noticed Drake slip back into the room. Finally, at a clearing of his throat, Ryan brought Lucy's attention back to the other occupants of the room. Blushing slightly, she got to her feet and went over to stand by Ryan.

"I didn't hear you come back in. I must have looked so silly playing with Gigi on the floor like that."

"Did you have fun with her?" Drake asked.

"She's exactly what I want in a dog, which is unfortunate because she just set impossibly high expectations for my future dog." Her eyes flew back to the dog who was actually circling her ankles, looking for the attention that had just been withdrawn.

"That's excellent news, because," Drake looked at Ryan and then back at Lucy, "she's yours." It took a few seconds for the words to sink in and, refusing to believe it at face value from someone she had just met an hour ago, she looked to Ryan for confirmation. He was beaming as he nodded that what Drake was saying was the truth.

"I—I can't possibly take her. She's yours. I—" Drake shook his head, cutting her off.

"My job is moving me to Europe in a couple of weeks and the hotel they are going to be setting me up at while I look for housing has a no pets policy. So, I've got to get this house ready for market and get everything I'm taking with me ready to move halfway around the world. Besides, relocation of that magnitude stresses animals out."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely. I was talking to Ryan here last week about the relocation and what I was going to do with Gigi and he immediately thought of you."

Lucy's mind was reeling. She was finally getting her dog, and not just any dog. One that she had immediately connected with in under thirty seconds. Beaming she hugged both of the guys, pausing to kiss Ryan briefly on the cheek, and then bent down to pick up Gigi, before showering her in kisses.

"I know she'll be well cared for and I've already told Ryan to keep me apprised of her life. If you want to take her now with a few essentials, I can send over everything else for you to look through tomorrow."

"You should keep her for one more night. Just to say a proper goodbye. I couldn't possibly separate you before then." Lucy gave Drake a look that said she wouldn't take no for an answer. When her own childhood dog had died, Lucy had been at school and part of the reason her grieving process had lasted as long as it did was because she had felt guilty about not being there to say goodbye.

Shrugging his shoulders, he agreed to keep Gigi one more night in order to say farewell and also to pack up her belongings. Gigi nestled quite comfortably in Lucy's arms, occasionally raising her head to lick Lucy's chin before settling back down. In a matter of minutes, while the trio were talking about Gigi's likes and dislikes and habits, she had closed her eyes and slumbered peacefully in Lucy's arms.

Even though she had been adamant that Gigi stay one more night with her owner, Lucy had difficulty in letting go when it was time to leave. It was only her pressing engagement with Trish that finally propelled her out the door, but knowing that Gigi would be hers forever on the morrow was enough to keep her going for the rest of the day. She couldn't wait to tell Trish!

Ryan walked her out to her car, his truck parked in front of hers. Once they arrived at the vehicles, Lucy spun around and took him totally by surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a lingering kiss. "Thank you so much for this. It meant a lot to me."

"Enough to make up for the panic attack you had on the doorstep?" She could see in his eyes that he still felt awful about it, considering he had been so secretive about the surprise.

At mention of the incident earlier, she was pleased to discover that the anxiety and frustration she had felt only a short time ago had evaporated and not even its casual mention brought those feelings back. He had given her a promise and she knew that she could trust him. Smiling up at him, she nodded before kissing him again.

**::~*~::**

**A/N: After writing this, I actually feel sad that Lucy died. She had so much life ahead of her! Actually, they all did, but Ryan was "going to propose." It was going to be so sweet! And I really loved how Ryan came out. Such a sweet boyfriend and so smitten with Lucy. The only concern I had with this story was the "proposal" scene. For something that serious, I'm afraid I may have been too lighthearted with it, but I can't figure out a way to change it without ruining the scene, instead of improving it. I think somewhere in the middle, she changed from the character we are familiar with to one that is hardly recognizable (I'll attribute it to her having a different demeanor when she's around dogs), but since she only had two episodes in the show, it's hard to really know what her character was like. **

**Go figure my last one-shot, which was also the most difficult to write, ends up being the longest one of them all. This ended up going a lot longer than I originally had planned on it, but I hope it was an enjoyable end to this story series. **

**Special thanks to Martine and Rebecca for being such consistant reviewers! You two are amazing! Thank you to everyone else who reviewed as well. Every single one was greatly appreciated and I tried to respond to them all where possible. To Rebecca, I now have to search all my reviews I've done for Harper's Island fanfics and figure out which one is you (though I do have a pretty good idea). **

**This is the end. As I've mentioned a few times before, I may continue on and add a couple of the other "minor" characters to the mix, but for now I'm going to mark it complete. Keep it on your alerts in case I do end up adding another chapter or two. I've got some other fanfics (including some related to Harper's Island) in various stages of progress that I really need to focus on, so I can deplete the number of stories sitting in my "Incomplete" folder. Excluding my "Once Upon a Life" fanfic, I have 23 stories marked as WIP, so I want to try and get it under ten before I start anything new. **


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